


Songs Unsung

by cucoo4cas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And now there's a sex scene, Canon verse, F/M, I promise, Lots of major character death, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Oops, SO, Sabriel - Freeform, Sam and Gabriel - Freeform, Was not planning on that, and yeah, but not in a bad way, but only because there is canonical major character death, canon sabriel, dialogue is the same, it's not like it ever sticks, just putting stuff where the show doesn't say it isn't, like how many times did dean die in just the mystery spot, motions are the same, this is my headcanon, yeah - Freeform, you'll see what i mean when you read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-04-01 22:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 85,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4036927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cucoo4cas/pseuds/cucoo4cas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel is not impressed with the Winchesters. These guys are supposed to usher in the apocalypse? Really? Then, Gabriel meets Sam. It isn't love at first sight, but it's...something interesting. This fic is basically my headcanon for Sabriel in the show. There may be multiple weeks between updates as I am too busy for my own good. Sorry O.O Enjoy this anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tall Tales

Gabriel paced back and forth outside of Crawford Hall. He usually wasn't one for local lore, but this had to be perfect. Flawless. He tugged on the hem of his dress. His target was late. But this had to work. Normally, he'd just conjure an apparition to do the job, but this was special. This needed a more…personal touch. He shook his long, black curls from his face. Where was he? The echoing sound of footsteps reached his ears.

Finally. Professor Cox sure took his sweet time getting here.

Gabriel lifted a shapely leg onto the snow covered cement ledge surrounding the building and began fiddling with the buckle of his beige heel to show as much of his legs and hips as possible. Creating the innocent, barely twenty female student façade had been very easy. He just had to sell it.

Professor Arthur Cox walked up, stopped, and stared for a moment before saying, "Excuse me."

Gabriel whipped his head up and gave the good professor a bright smile. From the look on Cox's face, this would be all too easy. Despite being told to come back later, Gabriel effortlessly flirted his way inside the professor's office with a flare of innocence.

After Gabriel stroked the professor's ego a bit, Cox asked, "What can I help you with? How's the Anscom paper coming?"

Passing as a student of his became a bit harder. Gabriel knew his next move. With a smile, he said, "I have a confession to make."

"Oh, what's that?" Cox asked.

"I'm not really one of your students," Gabriel said, never letting his smile or innocence falter. He should win an Oscar for the performance he was giving.

"Oh, really?" Cox asked, tone patronizing, "Then, why are you here?"

Gabriel paused for a moment. He needed to know he had the professor hooked. He slowly let his smile drop and turned away, saying, "Maybe I should just go."

Cox quickly said, "Wait."

Perfect.

Gabriel turned back towards the professor slowly. This had better work. He'd made out with guys for a lot less, but this really had to work.

Two minutes later, Gabriel, now back in his preferred male, janitor form, locked up the door to Crawford Hall exactly when he needed to. Taking just enough steps forward, Professor Arthur Cox plummeted to the ground directly behind him. He turned around and looked at the corpse splayed on the ground.

If this didn't attract the Winchesters, he didn't know what would.

Gabriel had been aware of the Winchester brothers for a very long time. The plans leading to their birth were as old as the Earth itself. But when they hunted a shapeshifter at the bank near Gabriel's hideout for the night, he learned the boys who were destined to end the world were hunters. Now, this, he had to see.

A little gender bending, some scarred flesh flirting, and a dead professor later, Sam and Dean Winchester checked into a local motel, and Gabriel knew he could start his test.

He wasn't expecting to be the second stop for the boys since 'scene of the crime' was kind of top priority in murders usually. These two, however, went to a bar first, talking to some 'local experts' if you could call a frat boy and a drunk grad student that.

Still, the Winchesters sidled up the steps of Crawford Hall, and it was show time. Time to see what the sons of the apocalypse were made of.

They said they were electricians rewiring some of the offices. Interesting cover story considering how late at night it was that they decided to drop by. Gabriel wasn't exactly blown away by their ingenuity. He played along anyway.

As they walked up to Cox's office, Sam Winchester asked him, "So, how long've you been working here?"

Gabriel wasn't quite sure why the younger Winchester was interested in his job longevity, but he gave them the same shtick he gave everyone he'd implanted memories in upon dropping in on the college, "I've been mopping this floor for six years." Gabriel used his key to unlock the office door. "There you go, guys," he said, letting the 'electricians' inside.

Right away, Sam whipped out a surprisingly functional EMF detector. Gabriel might've looked the other way at the alibi, but this was a blatant display of hunter tech. Who trained these guys?

"What the heck's that for?" Gabriel asked.

He leaned up against the wall as Sam looked at him and said, "Just finding wires in the walls."

At least the kid could think on his feet. "Huh," Gabriel said, "Well, not sure why you're wiring up this office. Not gonna do the professor much good."

Dean looked over at him and asked, "Why's that?"

He decided to throw the boys a bone and start making this party a bit more interesting. "He's dead," Gabriel said with as much nonchalance as possible.

"What happened?" Dean asked. The older hunter walked past Gabriel and joined Sam in looking around the office.

"He went out that window, right there," Gabriel said.

Sam looked at Gabriel, and the archangel hoped that look meant he was starting to be a suspect. Sam stepped towards Gabriel, a little too close for comfort, and Gabriel side stepped him, taking Sam's former position.

Sam asked, "Yeah? Were you working that night?"

Gabriel was definitely a suspect. Excellent. To seal the deal, Gabriel said, "I'm the one who found him."

"You see it happen?" Sam asked.

Gabriel looked over to where Dean found the bowl of caramel toffees. "Nope," he answered, "I just saw him come up here…" The archangel saw how intently Sam was staring at him, like he was hanging onto Gabriel's every word. He ducked his gaze and tried to finish his statement with a very coherent, "and, uh, well…"

"What?" Sam asked.

Gabriel risked looking up at the hunter, whose stare hadn't diminished at all, and damn it, this test wasn't supposed to get those hazel eyes stuck in his head. He miraculously carried on his charade by saying, "He wasn't alone."

"Who was he with?" Dean asked around a bite of caramel.

If Gabriel wasn't directing this play, he'd feel very interrogated. He looked over at Dean and said, "He was with a young lady. I told the cops about her, but I guess they never found her." The archangel's eyes wandered back to Sam's, and he mentally kicked himself.

"You saw this girl go in, huh?" Sam asked, "But did you ever see her come out?"

Sam's eyebrows knit together in this weird combination of curious and pleading, and Gabriel quickly averted his gaze. "Now that you mention it," he said, "No."

"You ever see her before or around?" Sam asked.

Gabriel looked at Sam and delivered the final touch by saying, "Not her."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"I don't mean to cast dispersions on a dead guy," Gabriel said, "But, uh, Mr. Morality here? He brought a lot of girls over here. Got more ass than a toilet seat."

Dean laughed loudly, letting Gabriel know exactly what strings he could pull with him. Sam, however, took the clue for what it was. His lack of reaction to Gabriel's joke left him confused. He'd have to figure out Sam a bit more later on.

"One more thing. This building. It has four stories, right?" Sam asked.

Gabriel smiled, knowing his play on the Room 669 lore worked perfectly. "Yeah," he said.

"So, there wouldn't be a room 669?" Sam asked. Yep. This trick was the best trick he'd done. The boys tied the girl to the lore, realized the lore was phony, and he'd be the only suspect. Maybe these boys were better than he thought. He fully expected stakes by sundown the next day.

"'Course not," Gabriel answered Sam's question, "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Sam said with a smile, "Thanks."

"Sure," Gabriel said.

The boys left pretty quickly after that, and Gabriel waited to see if they knew what they were up against.

Once he heard them consider that the professor was just a jumper, Gabriel jumped right back in. With a snap of his fingers from his temporary apartment a block away, Gabriel froze Sam's laptop on BustyAsianBeauties dot com. The archangel was actually surprised at the lack of porn on Sam's laptop. Was the dude a saint? Still, he hoped the small trick would make the Winchesters suspicious.

But of course, Sam instantly blamed Dean, and Dean didn't even have the decency to defend himself. Gabriel knocked his forehead against the wall of his apartment and decided to proceed to phase two.

He flew to Crawford Hall, making his wings sound as much like a flying saucer as he could manage, just in time to catch the frat boy the hunters spoke with earlier out on a walk. Awesome. The sound caught Frat Boy's attention, but he quickly shook it off. So, Gabriel flew past him again. He wanted this guy as shaken up as possible. The boy searched the sky, nervous. Good. There wasn't much the Trickster enjoyed more than hazing a hazer.

Gabriel allowed a fraction of his true form to shine through his vessel, spotlighting the kid with blinding white light. Of course, the kid tried running. Hilarious, really. Outrunning an archangel. Adorable. He sent a harmless crackle of lightning down at him and lifted Frat Boy off the ground. Gabriel hadn't faked too many alien abductions, but this was pretty fun. He'd have to hit some rural areas and really go crazy with this later.

Quickly, the boy's screams grated on Gabriel's nerves, so he knocked him unconscious with a single thought. Inserting some lovely memories of probing and slow dancing with Martians, the archangel left Frat Boy on the ground in a perfect circle of dead grass.

He'd wake up in an hour, the Winchesters would know it couldn't have been aliens and maybe get closer to the game at hand, and Gabriel would have a reason to listen to "Lady in Red" when he got back to his apartment. Maybe he'd even dance with the Jack Russell terrier he conjured the night before.

Everything was coming up roses.

Except for the boys not having even an iota of what was going on.

How hard was this? Just deserts? It had been his MO from back when he was Loki. Did they not know mythology? They were hunters for crying out loud.

Gabriel sighed and petted the dog on his lap. Maybe the boys needed some motivation. The Trickster snapped his fingers and smiled as Sam's laptop appeared on the counter. They had to get it now. Pranks, ironic traumatic incidents, it was like leaving his calling card.

But it became apparent that Gabriel was going to have to leave his name in neon lights.

Sam blamed Dean right away for the missing laptop because no one else could've taken it. No one could've set up a fake haunting or created an elaborate alien abduction either. Idiots, the both of them.

They were so focused on fighting each other, they weren't seeing the bigger picture. They were a lot more like Michael and Lucifer than Gabriel cared to think about.

Though Sam's comment about messing with the Impala sounded promising. If phase three didn't work, he'd fuck with Dean's car. No problem. If they didn't figure it out, he'd hurt the car just as punishment for being oblivious.

Phase three, while Gabriel had wanted to handle this whole thing personally, required a more removed approach. Like hell was he scooting through the sewer on his belly only to eat a dude. No. A well placed watch, an imitation watch to be specific, and Mr. Animal Testing was conjured gator chow.

Gabriel got to sit back and watch. He was starting to wonder how ridiculous he'd have to get to grab the Winchesters' attention. Alligators in the sewer? Come on. There was only one way this stuff could be happening, and the bozos just weren't getting it. So, to Gabriel's immense disappointment, Sam and Dean called Bobby Singer.

The apocalypse looked like it was going to be very anti-climactic at this point. They were the ones, but wow, did they fail his test with flying colors. At least they had their looks, right? Even so, they'd failed his third attempt.

Gabriel took great pleasure snapping the air out of the Impala's tires. For added entertainment, Gabriel manifested Sam's money clip and dropped it next to the poor car. He'd let Dean jump to conclusions and maybe eat some popcorn as he watched the fallout. It'd be great.

Hopefully, Bobby would be able to get the boys on track. But if they couldn't handle a simple Trickster case, Gabriel had little hope for the end of the world. Luckily, they had time. No one had broken that first seal yet.

Thankfully, Bobby did figure it out. Gabriel was only slightly offended at the term "demigod." Loki was a god, plain and simple. There was no "demi" in there. Even "archangel" was better than "demigod." At least he knew what a trickster was.

Gabriel grabbed his issue of the Weekly World News. It was always such a good source of inspiration. He considered doing one more prank just to celebrate the Winchesters finally making sense of their whacky week. Cannibals and chainsaws looked promising. The school chef who'd been serving uncooked meat wouldn't know what hit him.

"Oh, that's a good one," Gabriel said mostly to himself but partially to his dog. He put the paper aside and whistled for the dog. He really had to get around to naming this guy. "Come here," he said as the dog jumped off the couch.

Maybe more murder wasn't the way to celebrate.

"Could you eat?" Gabriel asked the dog, "I could eat. Come on."

Instant feast was probably his favorite way to use his begrudgingly angelic powers. He put his dog down, grabbed his glass of wine, and went to inspect the fruits, candies, and pies he'd manifested.

Delicious. This was a celebration.

"Something's missing," Gabriel said. Company. He smirked and created two, gorgeous female illusions.

Now, this. This was celebrating.

In fact, it was such a good celebration, he made a point of telling the boys about it the next day. He wasn't expecting much of a reaction from them since they knew what he was, but he'd been hoping for something. No laughter from Dean, no smile from Sam. Nothing. The way Sam's eyes averted from his actually sort of bother Gabriel. It shouldn't have, but it did. It certainly made it that much more irksome to carry on his janitor charade.

When Sam excused himself because he "forgot something in the truck," Gabriel knew exactly what Sam was going to do. Good. They needed to get on with it. He'd stayed in this town too long. The last thing he needed was Heaven to catch his scent.

After the Winchesters left, though, things changed. Gabriel looked out the window in Crawford Hall, watching something very surprising. Sam Winchester was defending him.

"Just 'cause he reads the Weekly World News doesn't mean he's our guy. I mean you read it, too," Sam said, talking over Dean.

"I'm telling you, it's him," Dean said.

Sam said quickly, "Look, I just think we need some hard proof. That's all."

Gabriel didn't know what to make of this. It was him, it was clearly him. He was 100% definitely the Trickster. Why was Sam questioning it?

"Alright, another thing Bobby mentioned was that these suckers have a metabolism like an insect, a real sweet tooth," Dean said.

"Well, I didn't find any candy bars," Sam said defensively, "Or sugar. Not even Equal."

"Probably 'cause you missed something," Dean said shortly.

Sam snapped, "I don't miss things."

"Oh, right," Dean said flippantly, "'cause you're Mr. Perfect."

Gabriel wondered if he should create some popcorn. This was starting to get good.

Sam asked, incredulous, "What? Are you really still pissed at me 'cause of what the Trickster did?"

Gabriel leaned forward on the window frame, watching their squabble escalate. As Sam left to investigate his apartment, Gabriel was very confused. It wasn't like he'd bonded with Sam while they were here. Maybe Sam was just being thorough. Maybe he empathized with the Trickster. It sort of made sense that the boy with the demon blood would feel an understanding towards a monster. Still weird.

Given the argument and how readily Dean and Sam turned their backs on each other, Gabriel was strongly reminded of his brothers. It was worrisome to say the least.

The archangel shook himself from his thoughts and hurried to get ready for Dean. There was no way the older hunter would wait for Sam to get back, and Gabriel wanted to be prepared.

Surprisingly, it took till nightfall for Dean to jump the gun. About time, too. Gabriel was getting bored. He cranked the volume on the sexy music and waited for Dean to walk in. The stage was elaborate, the girls were beautiful, the lighting was perfect. He even threw in some lava lamps for good measure.

Time to see how distractable Dean Winchester really was.

Dean very reluctantly acknowledged the girls weren't real.

Gabriel wasn't quite sure if that was going to be a deal breaker or not, but when Dean said he'd have to pass, the Trickster sweetened the deal. "They're a peace offering," he said. Time to pull back the curtain. "I know what you and your brother do. I've been around a while, run into your kind before," Gabriel said.

"Well," Dean said, grinning, "Then you know I can't let you just keep hurting people."

Gabriel rolled his eyes emphatically. "Come on! Those people got what was coming to them, hoisted on their own petards," he said, "But you and Sam—I like you. I do. So treat yourself. Long as you want. Just long enough for me to move onto the next town."

Dean didn't even debate it before saying, "Yeah, I don't think I can let you do that."

Well, he got points for morality. That was something. Maybe threats would work where bribes wouldn't. "I don't want to hurt you," Gabriel said, "And you know that I can."

"Look, man, I—I got to tell you, I dig your style, alright, I mean, I do," Dean said, glancing at the gorgeous women, "And the slow dancing alien—" Dean laughed, and Gabriel enjoyed that his gag was appreciated.

"One of my personal favorites, yeah," the Trickster said.

"But, uh, I can't let you go," Dean said.

No bribery, no threats. Gabriel wasn't sure if he should be impressed or pity the idiot. He had no idea what was coming to him. That righteous attitude of his would be the death of him.

And everyone, really.

"Too bad. Like I said, I like you," Gabriel said, "Sam was right. You shouldn't have come alone." He let his playful demeanor drop, but Dean didn't react right away.

"Well, I'll agree with you there," Dean said.

The auditorium door opened, revealing Sam Winchester standing there, holding a blood tipped stake. Bobby entered through the other door.

Well, it was about damn time.

"That fight you guys had outside," Gabriel asked, "That was a trick?" They'd been pretty convincing, he had to admit. It made more sense of Sam defending him, actually. He was pretending. Made perfect sense. He didn't quite understand why he felt bothered by that.

Dean nodded in response to Gabriel's question.

"Hmm," Gabriel said, "Not bad." It did take quite a bit to trick the Trickster. Dean pulled a stake out of his jacket that matched the others'. Yeah, they'd tricked him, but that didn't mean squat when Judgment Day came around. Gabriel grinned and asked, "But do you want to see a real trick?"

A masked cannibal with a chainsaw appeared behind Sam. Gabriel really needed to thank the editor of Weekly World News for the good ideas. Maybe he'd send a gift basket.

Dean rushed at Gabriel with the stake, but one of the gorgeous ladies stopped him by ripping his arm back. Chainsaw Guy swung his weapon at Sam's head, which he skillfully ducked and promptly fell to the ground out of the way. The black haired babe tossed Dean at the stage in a feat of effortless strength.

Gabriel couldn't contain his laughter as he watched the spectacle with great enthusiasm. The end of the world wasn't going to be easy, so he felt no reason to go easy on them now. Bobby rushed forward with his stake only to have it sliced in half by Chainsaw. The blonde beauty dragged Dean to his feet and punched him at the other gorgeous woman.

This was better than going to the movies.

Sam tackled Chainsaw to the ground, and Gabriel started to feel like these numb-skulls might have a shot. The ladies continued to beat on Dean until the hunter found himself colliding with the front row.

"Nice toss, ladies!" Gabriel applauded, "Nice show." The archangel stood and said, "Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean. I did not want to have to do this." Before he knew what hit him, Dean shoved a stake into his chest.

Well, then.

Maybe the apocalypse would be more interesting after all.

Gabriel faked a pained noise.

Dean said quietly, "Me neither."

The Trickster's mirages faded, Gabriel subtly de-materializing them so the Winchesters would think they won. Dean pulled the stake out of Gabriel's chest and threw the Trickster's copy back against the seats, dead.

Gabriel rolled his shoulders on the roof of Crawford Hall as he healed the hole in his chest. Got to love the bait and switch.

As the hunters drove away, the lone archangel stood over his dead copy. He watched it slowly fade away and took a bite of his candy bar. Yes, the end of the world would be very interesting.


	2. All Hell Breaks Loose

Sam heard Dean call his name. He couldn't believe his brother was there. Sam held his arm, probably broken in a few places, and walked towards Dean.

When he'd been spirited away to the demon infested ghost town, Sam wasn't sure he was on an earthly plane of existence anymore. Yet Dean was right there. Andy must've gotten through to him. Dean was there. His brother found him. He was safe.

"Sam," Dean called.

Sam shouted back, "Dean." Sam had never been more relieved in his life to see his brother.

"Sam, look out!" Dean shouted.

A sudden sharp pain in Sam's back distracted him from his broken arm. He could feel the blood seeping down his back into his clothes.

"No!" Dean shouted, rushing forward.

Sam barely heard him. He felt so weird. He couldn't hold his weight and had the vague sensation of dropping to his knees. Someone was holding his jacket, holding him in their arms. Sam's vision swam. He was so tired. His eyes refused to stay open. Was he being shaken? He couldn't tell. He needed to sleep. So tired. A part of him clung to the thin thread of consciousness, urged him to stay awake, to hang on longer. But it was a very small part. He let go.

Sam stood in a motel room, staring at paper clipping plastered on the walls. Yes, a woman in white. Dad figured it out. He could get back to Stanford on time for his interview. Good.

Dean said, "Alright, why don't you see if you can find an address. I'm gonna get cleaned up." Dean stood next to him, covered in mud and other filth.

Sam remembered this, but how could he remember it? It was happening right now. But he'd definitely done this before.

Dean raised his hand to stop Sam from talking, even though Sam hadn't said anything. He said, "No chick-flick moments." This was their first case together after Dad disappeared. Sam remembered. There'd be cops outside later. He'd crash the Impala into Constance Welch's house later.

Sam suddenly felt very dizzy. He needed air.

"I'll be right back," Sam said, moving towards the door.

"Bitch," Dean said.

Sam ignored him and opened the door to see the inside of a hospital room. What? He looked at the door he'd come through, and it clearly just led down the hall to the rest of the hospital. Weird.

Sam focused back on the room and saw Dean lying in a hospital bed hooked up to more tubes and wires than Sam was remotely comfortable with. But this had happened, too, didn't it? They'd been hit by a truck, Dean was in a coma. Sam saw the ouija board laying on the ground at the foot of Dean's bed. He'd used that to talk to Dean. There'd been a reaper. Then, Dad had made a deal. Sam remembered all of this. Why was it happening again?

Sam walked over to the oujia board and sat where he'd sat before. The motion made his back flare with pain. He gasped from the shock of it. What happened to his back? Gingerly, Sam repositioned himself on the floor. What was going on? The planchette started moving slowly towards the "Yes." Why was he reliving this?

When Dean's spirit started spelling "hunt," Sam stood up and walked back to the door. He couldn't deal with this again.

Pushing the door open to figure things out in the hall, he walked out to see the inside of the auditorium in Crawford Hall. The Trickster turned around to look at Sam's arrival, surprised. Dean grinned, his trick having worked out perfectly. Bobby emerged to Sam's left.

"I've done this before," Sam said.

The Trickster's gaze snapped to Sam's, and Sam knew that hadn't happened before.

"What did you say?" the Trickster asked.

Sam said, "This has happened before. We fought, Dean killed you. This is really freaking weird."

The Trickster snapped his fingers, making everyone but the two of them disappear.

"How are you doing that?" Sam asked, "You didn't do that before."

The Trickster hopped up and approached Sam, making Sam back up instinctively.

"I'm not a memory," the Trickster said, distractedly, "Sam, come here."

The Trickster's joking demeanor was completely gone. Sam reluctantly stepped forward towards the Trickster.

"Holy shit," the Trickster said, placing a hand to Sam's wrist. Quickly, he pressed two fingers to Sam's jugular. "That's not possible," he said, eyes wide.

Sam asked, "What?"

The Trickster released Sam and ran a hand through his hair. "I hate being the bearer of bad news," he said, "But you're dead, Sam."

"I'm dead?" Sam asked, scared. How did he die? What? How was that possible? His heart raced. What was going to happen to him?

"Well, you're not dead yet," the Trickster said, "You're dying. Give it a minute."

Sam closed his eyes. He was going to leave Dean alone. They hadn't killed Azazel yet. He hadn't avenged Jess. It was too soon.

"What do I have to do?" Sam asked.

The Trickster grinned and said, "You'll have to choose."

"Choose?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, choose. Souls only have three real options," the Trickster said, "Heaven, Hell, or Haunting. Find your reaper, and they'll help you figure it out."

"How long do I have?" Sam asked.

The Trickster laughed and asked, "Do I look like an expert to you?"

Sam rolled his eyes and headed for the door. He'd figure it out. Hopefully.

The Trickster grabbed Sam's arm and stopped him, turning him around. "Actually, Sammy, I am a bit of an expert on the whole life and death thing. You want more time, you got it," he said.

Sam gave him a confused glance as the Trickster snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, Sam found himself on a couch in a cabin. He recognized it right away as the cabin in Flagstaff where he'd run away to as a kid.

"Why are we here?" Sam asked.

The Trickster said, "It's safe. It'll take your reaper a bit to find you this far back in your head."

"Am I dead?" Sam asked.

The Trickster shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to Sam. "Technically, yes," he said, "I sort of stole your soul to confuse your reaper. We're hiding in your brain. I'm buying you time, though. Nothing sinister."

Sam gaped at the Trickster. "You what?" he asked.

"Nothing sinister, I swear," the Trickster said again.

Sam shook his head. This was insane.

"So, Sam," the Trickster asked, "How'd you die?"

"I don't know," Sam said. He needed to get back to his body. He needed to wake up. Dean needed him.

The Trickster tapped Sam's forehead and said, "Yes, you do. What happened?"

"Jake stabbed me," Sam said, not sure how he knew that, "He stabbed me in the back, severed my spinal chord."

"Who's Jake?" the Trickster asked, staring at him intently.

Sam said, "Jake is one of the children Azazel visited, the children with abilities. Jake has super strength." He didn't know why he was telling the Trickster this. He got the sense that he was divulging this information unwillingly, but he was dead, so what did it matter?

The Trickster added, "And how did you run into Jake?"

"We were kidnapped by demons. We were told to kill each other off. Jake and I were the last two standing," Sam said.

The Trickster huffed, his brow furrowing in confusion. "The demons must not know who you are. That's...adorable, really," he said.

Sam asked, "What do you mean?"

The Trickster looked at Sam sadly, and Sam thought he saw a hint of pain in those golden eyes. "You were supposed to win, Sam," the Trickster said, "You're the one. Always have been. You're not supposed to be dead. No demons can just undo the will of Heaven. None of this makes any sense."

Quickly, the Trickster slapped a carefree smile on his face, shielding whatever emotion might've been in his eyes. "Oh, well," he said, "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

Sam was about to ask about everything the Trickster had just said when the demigod snapped his fingers.

They stood in his bedroom at Stanford. The shower was running, the smell of fresh baked cookies was in the air. Sam knew exactly what he'd see on the ceiling if he looked. He took a deep breath and gave an unamused look to the Trickster.

"What? It's not my brain that's got places like these," the Trickster said innocently, "Your reaper was getting close, I couldn't just-"

A woman with short, black hair appeared before them. She looked extremely angry. She glared at the Trickster.

"Hey, don't look at me," the Trickster said, "He asked nicely. Who could turn down eyes like that?"

Sam glanced at him before turning his attention to the woman. He needed to get home.

"Three days? You hid him from me for three days? I'm just supposed to look the other way?" she snapped. Three days? He'd been out for an hour. Maybe.

"Yes," the Trickster said, grinning. He smiled at Sam and disappeared.

"Come on," the woman said, extending her hand to Sam.

"Woah," he said, "I don't even know who you are."

"My name is Tessa. I'm here to help you to what comes next," she said softly.

"You're my reaper?" Sam asked.

"You seem shocked," she said, "Why, did Dean mention me?"

"No," he said, "Wait, you tried to reap Dean?"

Tessa sighed, "Tried to. Yes." Right, Dad's deal.

Sam knew he couldn't wait around and be a ghost in his own head. Moving on was the better option. Years of hunting had taught him at least that much. He reached his hand out to Tessa when he saw black smoke crawl up the reaper's arm.

"No!" she cried.

Another woman manifested from the smoke. Her eyes glowed red. The demon ran her fingers slowly down Tessa's arm.

"One brother for one soul," the demon said.

Sam did not like the sound of that. Tessa looked at Sam in abject horror. He tried to take a step back to run, but the demon grabbed his jacket and yanked him to her. She pressed a hand to his chest. Everything went dark.

When Sam awoke, he was laying on an old, musty mattress in a dark room. He smelled like death. What happened? The last thing he remembered was falling to his knees in the Cold Oaks. He sat up gingerly. Where was he?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dark stain of blood from where he'd been laying. He jumped up in alarm, his back spasming painfully. Sam remembered the burning pain in his back from the town. He remembered Dean running towards him. From how stiff he felt, Sam could tell he'd been out for a while. What the hell happened?

Carefully, he shrugged out of his jacket. He gingerly lifted up his shirt and stood, back to a mirror, to see what damage had been done to his back. It was red, maybe a little scarred. Something really fucked up was going on.

The door swung open, and Dean walked in. "Sammy?" he said in slight disbelief, "Thank God." Was he expecting someone else? Dean walked over and gave Sam a tight hug, which was painful as shit.

What the hell was going on?


	3. Mystery Spot

Dean Winchester sold his soul. Of course he did. That's how Sam was alive, that's how Dean was going to hell, that's how the apocalypse would spark if they weren't careful. Of course.

Gabriel had kind of figured Dean would've gone to hell anyway, considering he seemed to be the poster child for the seven deadly sins, but this just had some more poetry to it. And then there was Sam, the loyal little brother, doing everything in his power to save Dean. It was laughable. There was no saving Dean. But Sam would try. And Sam would fail. The world would burn to a cinder as a result of Sam's failure. Gabriel knew what he needed to do, and Sam Winchester was not going to like it.

It was a good thing the boys were hunters; it made it much easier to lure them in. A weird missing persons case and the Winchesters hit town faster than Gabriel could snap his fingers. This was going to be so much fun.

The first time Dean died, it wasn't Gabriel's fault. That guy was jumpy and trigger happy without any Trickster intervention. It still fit with the trick, though, so Gabriel used the opportunity readily. With a snap of his fingers, Sam was right back in bed, waking up to the dulcet sounds of Asia.

It only took Sam one go around to cross off deja vu.

The second time, Sam caught on to the time loop without hesitation.

Honestly, after what happened at Crawford Hall, Gabriel was endlessly happy that Sam had a brain in his head. He was worried, though, about Sam. The first loop had him confused, but the second loop just made him angry. That rage wasn't good. It was dangerous. It could start the apocalypse much sooner than was good for anyone.

Things were fine the way they were. Sure, Gabriel wasn't a fan of his brother being stuck in a box, but it was better than Michael and Lucifer ripping into each other again. At least there was a small amount of peace right now. The end would come. It was written, and there was no stopping it, but it didn't have to be now. It didn't have to be so soon.

Dean had to go to Hell, he was marked for it, there was just no way around that. If Sam didn't learn how to let go of his brother, he could really go dark side. It was one thing if Dean did break the first seal when he was down there. It was another thing entirely if Sam allowed himself to play his role, too. But here Sam was, angry and frustrated and not getting the point.

Gabriel had no time to waste. Plus, fucking with Dean was just good old fashioned fun. As Sam and Dean walked on the sidewalk below him, Gabriel snapped his fingers, dropping a piano and flattening Dean like a pancake. An exploding pancake. It was great.

But the look on Sam's face tore at Gabriel something awful. Nothing but fear and heartbreak. The kid had no right to be able to get a look on his face like that. But he needed to do this. Gabriel had a lesson to teach, and Sam needed to learn it, or it would be the end of everything.

A good thing out of all of this was watching Sam wake up. Gabriel chose Asia for the alarm clock. It was loud and jarring, but it was also catchy. He hadn't counted on Dean also being loud and jarring, but that was really a bonus. The third loop seemed to go a bit better. Sam was scared and sad, but his anger had subsided. It was something.

Gabriel sat at the bar at the diner, slowly enjoying his pancakes when Dean called to the waitress, "Excuse me, sweetheart! Can I get sausage instead of bacon?"

Gabriel had to pull all of his strength to keep from laughing. Oh, this was going to be great. While Sam wasn't as angry, he was still very much not getting the point. Gabriel hoped Sam would figure it out sooner rather than later. He wasn't sure how much more pain he could see on that kid's face before Gabriel would have to pull the plug just to keep his sanity.

But he had to keep it up. And well, making Dean choke on a sausage? With how much that boy overcompensated, Gabriel couldn't resist. It was more just desserts than anything. After Dean died, choking on the meat, Gabriel worried slightly that he'd been too on the nose, that Sam would recognize his MO.

But when Sam woke up to "Heat of the Moment" again, Gabriel's worries subsided. They were still trying to change things to save Dean. It wasn't progress, but his cover wasn't blown either.

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and Dean slipped in the shower and cracked his head. If it wasn't for the pained look on Sam's face every time, this whole thing would be incredibly fun. But Sam just had to go and ruin it. How could a human that big manage to look that vulnerable? How was it even possible?

Sam kept trying to save Dean, and Gabriel just kept pulling out the stops. With how stubborn Sam was, he worried about running out of new ways to kill Dean. But honestly, running out of new ways to kill Dean Winchester was a pretty awesome problem to have. It was great, so fun. And he had no idea about any of it. Sam did, and that did take the wind out Gabriel's sails a bit, but c'mon, the look on Dean's face every time he bit the dust was priceless. And the tacos were a classic. If Sam were a bit less biased, Gabriel knew he would've laughed at least once. Seriously, he killed Dean with tacos. This was comedy gold, and Sam was missing out. Electrocution from the shaver was fun, definitely a laugh riot.

When Sam decided the rip the Mystery Spot down to the studs, however, Gabriel realized he needed to step up his game a little. Sam wasn't angry anymore. No, now, he was growing desperate. And that was worse. Much worse. Gabriel had to deter him from that.

That loop, he made Sam be the cause of Dean's death. A slippery hatchet and a blood splatter later, Gabriel felt worse about that kill than he had about any other. It wasn't Sam's fault that Dean was going to Hell. Dean made that choice for himself. It wasn't Sam's fault that he died. It wasn't his fault that Azazel chose him, that God chose him.

But he had to make that loop's death Sam's fault. He had to. If Sam got too desperate in his crusade to save his brother, he'd destroy everything. Rage was one thing. It blinded you, it motivated you to do things you'd never accept otherwise. Desperation, on the other hand. Desperation made you accept lower standards, do things you'd never have done, but you weren't blind. Desperation just made you okay with these things. It was different if Sam accepted Lucifer out of blind rage, thinking that somehow he'd get revenge for his family. If Sam accepted Lucifer out of desperation... Lucifer was capable of unspeakable things, and it was becoming clear, that if Sam was desperate enough, he'd do unspeakable things as well.

So, Gabriel had Sam kill Dean. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, and it wasn't the first time he'd wanted to end this whole charade, but it got through to Sam. He stopped trying to change things, he stopped being so violent. Instead, Sam started to use his head. He started interviewing people, asking questions, and paying incredible attention to detail. It was sort of impressive.

Sam was very smart. He learned about Cal's misfortunes, Mr. Pickett's cataracts, Doris' allergy to mushrooms, the furniture movers and their families, he learned the names and stories of nearly everyone in the town. Gabriel was a little blown away. This whole thing would be over if Sam would just give up, but he never did. Even though Sam was definitely not getting the message, Gabriel could respect Sam's inability to back down.

Several times, after a particularly grisly death, Sam would walk into the diner with a haunted look on his face. It was all Gabriel could do to keep sipping his coffee and eating his food. He wanted to stop this. He wanted to stop this whole thing. All he wanted to do was get up from his seat, go over to Sam, hug him, tell him it would all be okay if he'd just let his brother go. He just wanted to see Sam smile again. It shouldn't have gone on this long. Sam should've accepted his defeat weeks ago.

But he didn't.

So, Tuesday continued. While Sam grew more and more tired of watching Dean die, he also grew more and more impatient explaining the time loop to his brother. That was some solace in the torture, for lack of a better word, that Gabriel was staging. Gabriel had never known the true meaning of agony until he heard Sam and Dean say in unison, "Sam Winchester cries his way through sex," and he couldn't laugh. If he laughed, he'd give himself away, and it'd all be sunshine and blood-tipped stakes from there. Holding in that laugh was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, topped only by leaving Heaven and torturing the smile off of Sam's pretty face.

Sam explained to Dean all the ins and outs of the people in the town, and Gabriel was speechless. Yes, he'd seen Sam find all of this information out, he'd laughed particularly hard when Sam caught Judge Meyers in his furry bunny outfit, but knowing that Sam retained it all...Gabriel would have to be extra cautious. One false step, and it would all be over. Not that that would be a bad thing, but Sam hadn't learned his lesson yet. If he didn't learn, then what would be the point of all of this?

Everything in this loop was running smoothly until Dean turned around and ran over to Dexter Hasselback's daughter. Gabriel had her walking around for continuity purposes in the beginning. Dexter Hasselback didn't really exist, he'd just needed a lure for the boys to start this whole thing. If anyone asked her about her father, she'd just say he went missing, and if they knew anything to contact her. He hadn't really given her anything else to do or say. When Dean ran over to her, that wasn't a big deal. Dean hadn't started delving into as much detail as Sam had. When Sam ran over to the daughter, Gabriel knew he was going to be in deep shit.

Luckily, Dean was standing next to a dog. He could've just restarted the day again, but if Dean didn't die, that would definitely stick out to Sam. The friendly golden retriever went Kujo on Dean, and Gabriel snapped Sam back to Tuesday morning before he even had a chance to react.

It was nice not seeing the hurt on Sam's face this time. When Sam sat up in bed, listening to Asia yet again, he and Dean went to go brush their teeth as usual. Sam looked deeply troubled, but really, what else was new.

Gabriel stood invisible against the wall, and for the first time since he'd started this whole mess, he listened to the song that was playing. "Heat of the Moment" was a classic, definitely an energetic song, but it was the first time Gabriel stopped and really listened to it. "It was the heat of the moment, telling you what your heart meant," sang through the air with the chorus. Gabriel felt a small ache in his chest.

Dean and Sam left, and Gabriel knew he had to get back to the diner before they did. He snapped himself to the bar at the diner without anyone being the wiser. Still, the words from the song floated around in his head. Lines like "I never meant to be so bad to you" just kind of stung after all of this. Nothing annoyed him worse than "One look from you and I would fall from grace," though. He just had to pick the one song that was from the implied perspective of a fallen angel. He just had to. A small, very small, almost too small to count, part of him wondered if he'd picked "Heat of the Moment" for any reason other than its volume and fast cadence.

At this point, he'd been watching Sam go about his Tuesdays for nearly six months. If Sam would smile just once, Gabriel probably would fall from grace. He'd give anything to undo what he'd done to that boy. But there was more at stake than just Sam. There was more at stake than either of them. Enough was enough. He was done. Sam didn't want to let his brother go? Fine. Gabriel couldn't keep doing this anyway. He couldn't grow attached to a human like this, especially not Lucifer's vessel. What kind of archangel was he? He was done. He'd gotten way too close and involved.

So, he reverted to his backup plan. Gabriel quickly snapped his syrup from maple to strawberry. He knew it would be enough to get Sam's attention. After he paid for his meal, as luck would have it, Sam came to the Trickster conclusion even before noticing the syrup change. The kid was good, much better than he'd given him credit for.

That loop, Gabriel didn't kill Dean. He just snapped Sam back to bed, so they could have their encounter correctly in the morning. Gabriel was so done with this whole thing that killing Dean wasn't even fun anymore.

As Gabriel ate his pancakes, he could feel Sam staring at him. If Sam wasn't intending to murder him, Gabriel might've mistook it as flirting. He was planning to stick him with some wood, so...okay, that wasn't very funny. Premeditated murder was premeditated murder. Sexual innuendo was only appropriate when he wasn't the intended victim. Gabriel just wanted to wash his hands of this.

When Sam snapped at Dean a quick, "Eat your breakfast," Gabriel wondered if Sam would ever be okay after all this. Given who Sam was and what destiny had in store for him, Gabriel didn't have very high hopes, but he hoped he hadn't done too much damage. He had one final blow to deliver, and Sam would need to deal with it.

Gabriel stood up, walked out of the diner, and down the street like he had every Tuesday. Sam followed him quickly while Dean tagged along more out of confusion than anything.

Before he knew it, Sam grabbed Gabriel's shoulder and shoved him up against a fence. It was hard for Gabriel to keep his mind from imagining Sam shoving him up against other things like bedroom walls...but now was not the time.

"Hey!" Gabriel protested, but he quickly stopped after Sam held a bloody stake to his throat.

"I know who you are," Sam said, voice menacing, "Or should I say what."

"Oh my God, please, don't kill me," Gabriel begged, still playing his role. He couldn't wait to see the look on Sam's face when he revealed himself.

"Uh, Sam," Dean said, concerned.

"It took me a hell of a long time, but I got it," Sam said.

Voice full of forced fear, Gabriel asked, "What?"

"It's your MO that gave you away. Going after pompus jerks, giving them their just desserts. Your kind loves that, don't they?" Sam hissed.

"Yeah, sure, okay," Gabriel said, actually feeling almost a little afraid of Sam, "Just put the stake down." The stake wouldn't be able to hurt him, but the look on Sam's face was enough to put fear in the heart of anyone, including heartless bastards like Gabriel.

"Sam, maybe you should," Dean said, clearly not wanting to kill an innocent man.

"No!" Sam shouted, "There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops? You'd pretty much have to be a god. You'd have to be a Trickster."

And there it was, but Gabriel really had to know how far Sam would take this. "My name is Ed Coleman," he said, pleading, "My wife's name's Amelia. I've got two kids. For crying out loud, I sell ad space."

"Don't lie to me!" Sam yelled, "I know what you are. We've killed one of your kind before."

Gabriel slowly revealed the vessel Sam and Dean knew with a smirk on his face. The look on Sam's face was one of pure shock. Totally worth the delayed reveal. They thought they'd actually managed to kill him. Priceless. Even if he weren't an archangel, nobody tricks the Trickster.

"Actually, Bucko, you didn't," Gabriel said, raising his eyebrows at Sam teasingly. It didn't matter how surprised the boys were, though. Sam didn't drop the stake for a second.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked. Gabriel kind of felt it should've been obvious by now.

"You're joking, right? You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time," Gabriel said, "Why wouldn't I do this?" He wasn't going to just spell it out for him. He could see in Sam's eyes that he didn't buy Gabriel's answer anyway.

"And Hasselback? What about him?" Dean asked angrily.

Gabriel thought about telling them of his innocence. A fabricated disappearance was easier than a five dollar hooker. But Gabriel had a reputation to uphold. "That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes," he said, "So I dropped him in one." He laughed, trying to get Dean and Sam to appreciate the irony. He also needed to sell the lie. Sam needed to learn something, but Dean didn't need to know there was a lesson. "Then, you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town," he said. Dean would think they had a case of wrong place, wrong time, and Sam would maybe figure out the lesson with Gabriel's next trick.

"So, this is fun for you?" Sam asked, more upset than Gabriel was entirely comfortable with, "Killing Dean over and over again?"

The time for lies was running out, and he did really enjoying pissing off Dean, so Gabriel said, "One, yes. It is fun. Two, this is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on you, Sam. Watching your brother die everyday. Forever." After he said it, he realized his words sort of made him sound like a sadist. Maybe he was a sadist. That wasn't his intent, though.

Sam breathed, "You son of a bitch." Apparently, Sam had taken the words the way they'd sounded and not the way Gabriel had meant them. Great.

Not all hope was lost, and Gabriel really didn't care what they thought of him. Entirely. Kind of. Even if it did bother him that Sam thought he'd done this for fun, he left the miscommunication where it was. Better to break ties with. But Sam really needed to know the lesson. That was all that was important.

Gabriel smiled and asked, "How long will it take you to realize? You can't save your brother. No matter what."

"Oh, yeah?" Sam asked, "I kill you, this all ends now." He pressed the stake harder against Gabriel's throat. Well, that wasn't entirely unexpected. Still, before any trickery with the boys came the preservation of his identity. He needed them to believe he was vulnerable to the stake.

Gabriel flinched and said, "Oh, hey. Whoa. Okay, okay. Look, I was just playing around. You can't take a joke? Fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you wake up. It'll be Wednesday. I swear."

"You're lying," Sam said. Oh, how Gabriel wished he was lying. But this had to be done.

"If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner," Gabriel said.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Dean looked more worried than anything, but Sam had half a second of indecision before he said, "No, easier to just kill you."

"Sorry, kiddo," Gabriel said, "Can't have that." He snapped his fingers and zapped the boys to Wednesday morning.

Gabriel could already see the hope on Sam's face when he woke up to "Back in Time." It stung horribly to see that look, because this had to happen. Sam had to realize that Dean was a lost cause. As Sam and Dean got ready to leave, without breakfast and without trying to come after him, Gabriel saw Sam almost smiling. He had enthusiasm and energy, and Gabriel hated himself for having to take that away. But the world depended on it. His brothers depended on it.

Dean went to pack up the trunk when Gabriel materialized Cal behind him.

"You sure we should just let the Trickster go?" Dean said, clearly thinking Cal was Sam.

Cal held a gun to Dean and said, "Gimme your wallet."

"Whoa, whoa, buddy. Just relax," Dean said.

"I am relaxed!" Cal said.

"Okay, alright. Nobody wants this to end the wrong way, let's talk about it a second," Dean said calmly.

The second the gunshot rang out, Gabriel vanished. He sat on a beach in Brazil and put his head in his hands. He knew what was happening. He could feel Sam hearing the gunshot and running out to find Dean, dead on the ground. Dean wasn't coming back this time, and Gabriel had never felt more like a monster in his entire existence. He picked up a fistful of sand and tossed it towards the tumultuous waves.

It shouldn't bother him that he hurt Sam. Sam was going to destroy the world if he didn't. Sometimes, these things were necessary. But just when Gabriel had convinced himself that doing this had been the right thing, Sam Winchester started praying. "I'm supposed to wake up. Please, let me wake up. This isn't supposed to be happening. Please, this isn't supposed to happen today. Just let me wake up. I'm supposed to wake up. Please. Not Dean. Not Dean. Not my brother. Not like this. Let me wake up. Please. Please."

The words filtered through Gabriel's mind, and the archangel slammed his fist into the ground. None of the other angels would do anything. None of them cared anymore aside from the younger angels, the ones who had never even seen humans. The only one who would answer Sam was Gabriel, and Gabriel couldn't bring Dean back. He couldn't.

But he went back to Sam. He had to make sure he'd be okay. He had no doubt in his mind that Sam would kill him if he got the chance, so he stayed hidden. He watched, he listened. He heard every sob, he saw every angry punch at drywall. He watched as Sam started hunting Gabriel with a purpose. He watched Sam slowly shut down each emotion until only vengeance drove him. He cut everyone out and dealt out death more efficiently than ever with seemingly no regard for himself. He'd just patch himself up later with barely a flinch. Nothing hurt Gabriel worse than seeing Sam like this.

Every morning, Sam made the bed perfectly. Every night, he ate alone in silent fury. And every day, Gabriel hated himself more and more, but he had to believe that Sam would eventually be okay without Dean. He had to be. This was going to be his life. Dean was going to hell, Sam needed to be okay on his own. But six months after Dean's final death, enough was enough.

Gabriel, posing as Bobby, called Sam and left a voicemail to add to the pile of unanswered messages. "Sam, it's Bobby. I found him."

When Sam arrived at the Mystery Spot, Gabriel, still posing as Bobby, was kneeling on the floor in front of some fancy ritual work. Sam came in silently, but Gabriel knew he was there. He needed to know. He needed to know that Sam was still in there, that he still had some life in him.

"It's good to see you, boy," Gabriel said with Bobby's gruff voice. He gave Sam a hug, but the hug wasn't returned. No welcoming smile, no relief at seeing a familiar face, nothing. This was ten kinds of bad.

"What are we doing here, Bobby?" Sam asked quietly.

"This is the last place we're sure the Trickster worked his magic," Gabriel said. Honestly, he'd picked this place to see if Sam would risk returning. Clearly, he was desperate enough to venture back.

"So?" Sam asked.

"So, you want this thing?" Gabriel said, "I found a summoning ritual to bring the Trickster here."

Sam asked, "What do we need?"

"Blood." Gabriel wasn't going to make this easy. Sam couldn't be that far gone.

"How much blood?" Sam asked.

"Ritual says near a gallon. It's gotta be fresh too," Gabriel said. Sam had to have a breaking point. Knifing a random guy had to be too far for him.

Sam understood the implication, saying, "Meaning we have to bleed a person dry."

"And it's gotta be tonight," Gabriel said, raising the stakes, "Or not for another fifty years."

Sam hardly missed a beat before saying, "Let's go get some."

Gabriel stared at him. He was serious. He'd actually go kill another human for this, for Dean. Shit.

Gabriel said, "You break my heart, kid."

"What?" Sam said.

"I'm not gonna let you murder an innocent man," Gabriel said.

Sam asked, "Then, why'd you bring me here?"

"Why?," Gabriel asked, speaking as Bobby as much as himself, "'Cause it was the only way you'd see me. 'Cause I'm trying to knock some sense into you. Because I thought you'd back down from killin' a man."

Sam said in a low, dangerous voice, "Well, you thought wrong. Leave the stuff. I'll do it myself."

"I told you, I'm not gonna let you kill a-" Gabriel said.

Sam cut him off. He shouted, "It's none of your damn business what I do!"

Gabriel took a breath. Fine. If that's the way Sam wanted to play it. There was only one way Gabriel would show himself, and that was if Sam was utterly and completely gone.

Gabriel looked at Sam with Bobby's face and said, "You want your brother back so bad..." He grabbed a sharp athame from his bag and show it to Sam. "Fine," Gabriel finished.

Sam asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Better me than a civilian," Gabriel said, clarifying the situation. If Sam was willing to kill Bobby, Gabriel would have a lot more work on his plate than he was aware of.

Sam said quietly, "You're crazy, Bobby. I'm not killing you." For the first time since Sam showed up, his face softened. Instead of the mask of emotionless ferocity, his expression showed his pain and vulnerability. It wasn't a look Gabriel particularly liked to see, but it was definitely a welcome change.

"Oh, now I'm the crazy one," Gabriel said. He couldn't believe Sam was willing to kill one of the people he always fought so hard to protect. And yet he could. He could believe it. He'd seen it before when his brothers turned on each other. Unless something changed and fast, the world was fucked if its fate was in the hands of Sam Winchester. He wouldn't let Sam kill anyone else but his image of Bobby. It was a test, not an operation to rile Sam up and set him lose on innocent people. Even the Trickster had morals about killing people, and their innocence played a big part.

"Look, Sam. I'm old. I'm coming near the end of my trail. But you can keep fighting. Saving people. But you need your brother. So, let me give him back to you," Gabriel pressed.

"Bobby..." Sam said.

"You and Dean. You boys are the closest thing I have to family. I want to do this," Gabriel said.

He held out the knife to Sam, and Sam took it without much hesitation, saying, "Okay."

"Good," Gabriel said. He turned around and got on his knees. "Just make it quick," Gabriel whispered, "Do it, son."

Sam was definitely going to kill Bobby. He hadn't wanted to the first time it was suggested, but it took little to no pushing to get him to change his mind on that. Shit. This was a lot worse than Gabriel could've imagined. He'd have to do something to fix this. Sam needed to be okay. He had to be.

"Okay, Bobby," Sam said, drawing closer, "But you want to know why?"

Gabriel felt Sam put an arm around his chest and felt the tip of a stake digging into his back. It was a copy that Sam ran through with the stake, though. Of course, the stake wouldn't kill him, but the less Sam knew about that the better.

The copy of Bobby died as Sam growled, "Because you're not Bobby."

Well, the kid wasn't wrong, but Gabriel still felt the need to put some fear in him about this whole mess. He should never have gotten desperate enough to kill Bobby, he should never have gotten so angry and vengeful as to obsessively track Gabriel down. Sam should have gone home to Bobby, cried, mourned, and moved on with his life, because this was coming one way or another, and Sam needed to be ready.

The copy corpse fell forward, the stake sticking gruesomely out of its back. When the copy didn't disappear or change at all as Sam was so clearly expecting, doubt crossed his features.

"Bobby?" Sam asked quietly.

Nothing happened.

Sam said, a little louder, breathing a little heavier, "Bobby?" He seemed on the verge of tears for the first time in months when he tried again. "Bobby?!" he cried.

Gabriel wanted to cry out of relief. Sam was feeling. He was still in there. Thank Dad. Gabriel dissolved the copy and made the discarded stake fly directly into his waiting hand. No need to let Sam try a fast one just because Gabriel was showing his face again.

"You're right," Gabriel said, "I'm just screwing with you. Pretty good, though, Sam. Smart. Let me tell you, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands. Holy Full Metal Jacket." He expected to see some anger at his teasing, but when Gabriel looked at Sam, the kid just looked so utterly tired and defeated. And broken. And sad. Gabriel had put that look on his face.

"Bring him back," Sam said softly.

"Who, Dean?" Gabriel asked, "Didn't my girl send you the flowers? Dean's dead. He ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak."

"Just take us back to that Tuesday or Wednesday, when it all started. We won't come after you, I swear," Sam said.

"You swear?" Gabriel said skeptically.

"Yes," Sam insisted.

"I don't know," Gabriel said, "Even if I could-"

"You can," Sam said urgently.

"True. But that don't mean I should," Gabriel said. Hurting Sam in person was much harder than Gabriel was expecting. He needed to get through to him. He needed Sam to be okay.

"Sam," Gabriel said sternly, "There's a lesson I've been trying to drill into that freakish Cromagnon skull of yours."

"Lesson?" Sam asked, eyes welling with tears, "What lesson?"

"This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain," Gabriel said. He couldn't spell it out, otherwise Sam's efforts to avoid the apocalypse would start it faster. Self-fulfilling prophecies and all. He just had to tell Sam something. Something that would hopefully prove to him that he needed to stop being so dependent on Dean's survival.

"Dean's your weakness," Gabriel said, "Bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam." He took a step back from Sam and said, "Sometimes you just gotta let people go."

Sam said with a tear thick voice, "He's my brother."

"Yep," Gabriel said, "And like it or not, this is what life's gonna be like without him." The fact that they were brothers wasn't exactly excuse enough to stop all of this. This was the fate of the world they were dealing with.

"Just..." Sam tried, desperate for something to sway Gabriel with.

Gabriel couldn't believe he was still trying. Why couldn't he just let Dean go? He'd been dead for half a year. Time was supposed to heal not make you crazy.

"Please," Sam said.

Gabriel couldn't do this anymore. Sam was literally begging for him to stop. He couldn't look at him like this. He couldn't see him with tears in eyes and pain in his heart that Gabriel had so carefully put there. He couldn't.

Gabriel bent his head for a moment. The world was going to burn if Gabriel didn't do something. This had all been completely necessary. But Gabriel knew he'd very willingly let the world burn if it meant seeing Sam happy just one more time. He couldn't do this anymore.

"I swear it's like talking to a brick wall," Gabriel said, trying to show exasperation but feeling nothing but guilt and failure, "Okay, this whole thing stopped being fun months ago. You're Travis Bickle in a skirt, pal. I'm over it."

"Meaning what?" Sam asked.

Gabriel looked Sam in the eye and said, "Meaning that's for me to know and for you to find out." He snapped his fingers and sent Sam back to the motel on that Wednesday with Dean.

Gabriel took a deep breath and followed. He hoped Dean would realize how much pain his brother was in. He hoped Dean would take care of Sam after the damage Gabriel had done. This wasn't how any of this was supposed to go.

Sam stopped as they left the motel room, turned around, and stared sadly into the room. Gabriel feared for a short moment that Sam could see him. Instead, Sam looked at the unmade bed. Gabriel wondered if he was remembering all those mornings that Sam had straightened everything out, made everything perfect, just for the ability to focus on something.

Even if Sam wasn't, Gabriel sure was. He'd been there everyday. He'd seen all of it. It was definitely going to be weird getting used to not seeing Sam. They'd spent every single day together for nearly a year, not that Sam was aware of Gabriel's presence for any of it.

Sam left the motel room to catch up with his brother, and Gabriel dropped on the bed sadly. He hurt Sam. He broke him in ways no one had any right to. For the first time in centuries, Gabriel the archangel allowed himself to cry.


	4. Wednesday

Sam would've been lying if he said closing his eyes that night put him at ease. He was wracked with anxiety that he'd wake up hearing "Heat of the Moment." He couldn't watch Dean die again, he just couldn't. As Sam reluctantly allowed his exhaustion to drag him into slumber, he worried that the Trickster had been right, that there really was no way to save Dean.

Sam's heart raced as he clutched at Dean's dead body. Not again. Not again. He could see the Trickster's smug smile swimming before his eyes. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not again. Not like this. Asia played through Sam's mind. Dean died again and again and again. A bullet, a blade, a poorly timed arrow. It just kept happening again and again and again and again. It was Tuesday. It was always Tuesday. It would never not be Tuesday. There had to be some way to stop this. But there wasn't. There never was.

Suddenly, Dean's body disappeared. Sam blinked away hot tears, trying to process what was happening.

"I didn't mean to do this, I'm sorry," said a voice. Sam turned around to see the Trickster standing over him. Sam quickly got to his feet.

"What's happening?" Sam demanded, "Where's Dean?"

"You're dreaming, Sam. Dean's fine," the Trickster said.

Sam gradually remembered falling asleep. It wasn't Tuesday. It was a dream. The Trickster was telling the truth.

Though he felt relieved, Sam's irritation shone through. "Great," he said, "So, I'm dreaming about the Trickster now. Awesome."

"Wouldn't that be interesting," the Trickster said, grinning, "But no. I'm actually in your head right now."

"How?" Sam asked. He felt more confused than violated, but this was still ten kinds of weird.

"You think I can literally bend reality, but I can't project myself into your subconscious? I'm offended, Sam," the Trickster said with mock hurt in his voice.

"Okay, what are you doing in my head?" Sam asked. He wasn't quite sure if he was in any danger or not, but he braced himself to wake himself up if need be.

"Oh, don't do that, I come in peace," the Trickster said, "I just heard your dream, and I figured we need to talk. What I did at the Mystery Spot, while harsh, wasn't meant to give you nightmares. I was trying to help."

"You were trying to help," Sam said sarcastically, "Right."

"I was," the Trickster defended.

Sam said, "Sorry, I must've missed that when I watched my brother die over a hundred freaking times."

"You're not the easiest person to get through to, Sam," the Trickster said quietly, "And Dean has to go to Hell. There's no way around it."

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't try."

"Yes, it does," the Trickster said, looking at Sam sadly.

Sam didn't know why he was telling him this. It was Dean. Of course he had to try to save him. Why was the Trickster even here?

The Trickster answered as if he could hear Sam's thoughts, "If you try and fail to save your brother, which you will, mind you, you'll blame yourself for his fate. You'll be in worse pain than you'll be if you accept reality and just let Dean go."

"I have to do something," Sam said, "It's my fault that he's going to Hell."

"No," the Trickster said, "It's not."

"He sold his soul for me. Of course it's my fault," Sam snapped, voice cracking, "He can't go to Hell. He can't. He should be able to be happy, to live a full life. I shouldn't even be here."

Sam did not like crying in front of the Trickster. He'd done it far too often, but he couldn't hold the tears back now any more than he could've at the Mystery Spot. None of this should be happening. Dean should be okay. Sam should be dead.

The Trickster wrapped Sam in a hug, making Sam go rigid despite the comfort the Trickster was trying to give. Slowly, Sam let himself relax into the Trickster's arms.

"What Dean did with his soul was his decision," the Trickster said quietly over Sam's shoulder, "You didn't ask him to go to Hell for you. You are not responsible for his choices."

Sam pulled away from the demigod and asked, "Why do you care?" He didn't mean it in an insulting sense, he didn't say it to be mean, Sam was genuinely curious what a Trickster God was doing giving a crap about him.

The Trickster folded his arms across his chest and said defensively, "I don't care."

"You certainly put a lot of effort into a situation you don't care about," Sam said.

"Fine," the Trickster said, losing his smile, "Maybe I wanted to be a friend. Doesn't mean I care."

"You want to be my friend?" Sam asked, skeptical. Oh, yeah, something else was definitely going on.

"Well, you clearly need one," the Trickster said. Maybe friendship with a demigod could prove useful.

Sam quickly met the Trickster's gaze and asked, "Can you save my brother?"

The Trickster laughed and said, "I'm not all powerful, Sammy. I can't just rip up his contract. That's hilarious, Sam, really."

"I know there has to be a way. Could you at least help me figure out how to fix this?" Sam asked, trying desperately not to sound like he was begging.

"There is no way, Sam. Dean is going to Hell. Period. End of story," the Trickster said.

Sam said in a last ditch effort, "I thought you said you wanted to be friends."

The Trickster's eyes flashed as he snapped, "Yeah, we can be friends. But right now, what you're asking for is an enabler. I'm trying to help you, Sam. You need to give this up. Your life is not dependent on Dean's survival. And trust me, being as brutally honest as I am right now makes me the best friend you've got."

Well, it was worth a shot.

"You're right," Sam said, "I should probably give this up."

"But you're not going to."

Sam sighed and said, "I can't. He's my brother."

"There isn't even the smallest part of you that's telling you to listen to the immortal being who's begging you to stop?" the Trickster asked.

"You're not immortal," Sam said, "You're just tricky."

The Trickster smirked and said, "Don't change the subject."

Sam started, "If it all blows up in my face-"

"When," the Trickster corrected.

Sam ignored him and said, "If it all goes to hell, I could probably use a friend."

The Trickster looked at Sam skeptically.

"Then again," Sam said, "I don't even know your name."

The Trickster smiled, and Sam could tell from that plastered on grin that there was a lot he didn't know. A name was just the tip of the iceberg.

"You can call me whatever you'd like, Sammy," the Trickster said playfully.

Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Well 'the Trickster' doesn't exactly roll off the tongue in casual conversation."

"That would be your problem," the Trickster replied.

"How about I call you 'Dick' on account of you being a dick all the time?" Sam asked, irritated that he couldn't get just one simple answer.

The Trickster laughed and said, "If you'd like."

Sam huffed, frustrated. "I'll just call you Trickster," he said, "And if you feel like telling me your real name ever, I'll switch to that."

The Trickster said with a smile, "Fair enough. Trickster it is. See you around, Samsquatch."

The Trickster raised his hand to snap his fingers when Sam asked, "Wait, how do I get a hold of you?"

Sam's new friend grinned and said, "I'll be in touch."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked.

The Trickster bounced his eyebrows and disappeared, shaking Sam out of his dream.

He awoke with a gasp and glanced to his left. Dean was sprawled out over his bed, snoring softly. The Trickster was wrong. There was a way to save Dean. Sam just had to find it. But he would save his brother. He'd save him or die trying.


	5. No Rest for the Wicked

When the clock struck midnight, Gabriel knew Dean's year was up. He knew what would happen next, and he couldn't help but turn his gaze to Sam. From his spot on the sand in Costa Rica, Gabriel could see and hear everything going on in that house in New Harmony, Indiana.

The clock finished tolling as the first of Sam's tears fell. Gabriel could barely stand to watch. It was admirable that they tried to run from the hellhound, but there was no stopping this. Sam had to know this. Somewhere in that big head of his, Sam had to know this was inevitable. That's when Gabriel saw it. Lilith was hiding with them. Gabriel's skin crawled knowing that Sam was so close to the first demon ever made. When Lilith kissed Sam, Gabriel had half a mind to smite that bitch himself. Of course, there was a reason she was still alive after all this time. Killing her would be the end of everything. Gabriel still kind of wanted to watch the life burn from her eyes regardless.

A loud cry grabbed Gabriel's attention.

Sam was shouting. "No, stop!" he shouted.

Dean was being ripped to shreds. Sam threw his head back and prayed for help. Gabriel could feel the prayer, and hell if he wouldn't have given anything to answer it. But he couldn't. Dean had to die.

"No, stop it! No!" Sam yelled.

Gabriel wanted to look away, he did, but he couldn't just ignore the situation when Lilith was so close to Sam. He couldn't just leave the kid entirely defenseless. As Lilith raised her hand, emanating with power, Gabriel was ready to end her right then and there. But something happened. Or rather, something didn't happen. Sam was fine. Lilith's power had no effect. It wasn't surprising really that the vessel that would end the world wouldn't be susceptible to Lilith's energy. He was more demon than any of them knew anyway.

Sam turned into a creature of blind rage then. He was going to kill Lilith, there was no doubt about that. Gabriel couldn't get involved. He couldn't. Lilith smoked out of Ruby's meat suit before he could've done anything anyway.

Then, Sam's rage was gone. It was just sadness and despair and loss.

"No," Sam sobbed, holding Dean's bloody, lifeless corpse, "No, Dean."

Gabriel tried so hard to return to the beach he was sitting on. He tried, he really did. He shouldn't care about a human, much less the most doomed human to ever walk the earth.

But Gabriel felt Sam's soul screaming. He felt it to his very core. It was a helpless, pained, strangled sound that had the archangel flying faster than light straight to Sam Winchester's side. Dean's body was torn to ribbons as his body lie dead in Sam's shaking arms. Ruby's empty vessel was strewn on the floor, also dead.

"Sam," Gabriel said softly.

Sam simply stared at Dean through tear filled eyes.

Gabriel knelt next to Sam and said, "Sam, talk to me."

Sam looked up at Gabriel slowly, and Gabriel saw the same jagged brokenness in his eyes that had been present every time Dean died at the Mystery Spot. He couldn't give Dean back this time, and that killed Gabriel.

Sam opened his mouth as if to say something, but it only came out as a choked sob. He closed his eyes and held onto Dean's body tighter as he started crying again.

Gabriel couldn't stand seeing Sam like this. He slowly removed Sam's arms from around Dean, rubbing Sam's arms, trying to help him calm down. Gabriel took Dean's body and laid Sam's brother on the ground.

"Come here," Gabriel said, pulling a shaking Sam into his arms. At first, Sam stiffened at the touch, to the point that Gabriel wondered if he should pull away, but Sam returned the hug and held onto Gabriel tightly as he sobbed into the archangel's shoulder. Gabriel rubbed Sam's back gently and carded his fingers through Sam's hair, wondering how the hell Sam would ever be okay. He knew he'd do whatever he could to help Sam, but he also knew Sam would not do well without his brother.

Unfortunately, even an archangel could not defy the will of Heaven. Until Dean Winchester broke the first seal, if he broke it, there was no way to rescue his soul from the pit.

Someone was coming down the hall, and Gabriel reluctantly pushed away from Sam lightly. "Bobby's coming. He probably won't appreciate finding me here," Gabriel said, "It's gonna be okay, Sam."

Sam looked up at Gabriel just as he disappeared to the Impala. He didn't intend to let Sam be alone after what just happened.

About twenty minutes later, Bobby and Sam came out, hauling Dean's dead body with them. They put his corpse in Bobby's car, and Sam hugged Bobby before heading to the Impala.

Bobby drove away as Sam tried to open the driver's side door. When the door wouldn't budge, Sam felt his pockets, and Gabriel leaned over in the driver's seat. "I'm driving, Samsquatch. Get in," he said.

Sam sighed and said quietly, "Dean wouldn't be okay with this."

Gabriel said, "I think he'd be less okay with you wrapping this car around a tree. You're in no shape to drive, kiddo."

Sam looked at Gabriel with his sad hazel eyes, but without further protest, he got in the passenger seat.

Gabriel turned the key in the ignition and headed in the direction Bobby drove off in. He turned on the radio with a snap of his fingers, and much to his delight, Bon Jovi was playing. Sam quickly turned off the radio and stared out the windshield, unblinking.

"No music," Gabriel said, "Different."

"That was the last song that-" Sam started before cutting himself off and staring at his hands.

"Okay, no music. Who needs music? The stuff's overrated anyway," Gabriel said, casting a glance at Sam. Sam looked over at Gabriel like he appreciated the effort, but the poor kid didn't even attempt a smile.

Gabriel had seen that helpless look before. He didn't know what to do to fix that look, so he settled on distraction. "So, Sam, where are we headed?" he asked.

Sam said, "Bobby's place. It's umm...it's gonna be a long drive. Just follow the highway west."

"What would you prefer? Long road trip or a good night's sleep in a warm bed?" Gabriel asked.

Sam shrugged half-heartedly. "Bed's always better than sleeping in the car, but I don't see how-" he said.

Gabriel snapped his fingers and parked the car in the Singer Salvage Yard.

"How did-" Sam started, looking around, bewildered.

"I am the Trickster," Gabriel said with a smile, "The job comes with perks."

Sam got out of the car and started inspecting the Impala.

"Not a scratch on her, I promise," Gabriel said.

"How am I going to explain to Bobby how I got here so fast?" Sam asked.

Gabriel said, "Well, you could say you must've passed him up somewhere along the way. Or I could go through the trouble to send you and the Impala down the road a ways so you can pull up in the morning."

Sam sighed and said, "You could probably just give Bobby a false memory of watching me drive up, couldn't you?"

"I could do that, but I have this crazy feeling that you don't really approve of me messing with Bobby's noggin," Gabriel said. Sam shook his head and walked towards the house.

As Sam sat down on the couch, Gabriel appeared next to him, making the hunter jump.

"You know, I might not be able to sleep much tonight, but I was going to try," Sam said.

"Couldn't hurt," Gabriel said, "You look exhausted."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Sam asked.

Gabriel looked at Sam and said with mock offense, "I'm starting to get the feeling you don't want me here." Sam gave Gabriel an attempted bitchface, and Gabriel said, "Look, Sam, I have no intention of leaving you alone tonight."

"Why?" Sam asked, "Why are you even here?" As if Gabriel hadn't been asking himself that same question since he'd arrived.

"Yeah, okay. I can tell when I'm not wanted," Gabriel said. He turned himself invisible on the couch in an easy disappearing act.

"No, that's not what I-" Sam said to the seemingly empty room. He let out a frustrated sigh, and Gabriel reappeared.

"I'm here if you want me," Gabriel said.

Sam looked at him with apologetic eyes. Gabriel didn't know how he did that with his eyes. He was a grown man not a damn puppy. Still, Gabriel found himself staring into Sam's soulful, hazel eyes.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, "I just don't get why a Trickster God would want to keep me company. I'm nobody special."

Gabriel thanked his father for his poker face, because nobody special? The true vessel of Lucifer the Fallen Archangel thought he was nobody special? That was ridiculous. It made Gabriel want to laugh hysterically and cry a little at the same time. Not only was he the vessel, but he was also the only human to ever make Gabriel care. He didn't have to be sitting here with Sam, but leaving was in no way an option. He wanted to be there, and it scared Gabriel to the bone. He should not care so much. But there was nothing he could do. Nobody special? Sam did not know how wrong he was.

Gabriel kept his smiling mask in place as he said, "Don't worry. I don't make a habit of hanging out with humans. But you're a particularly broken human, and I want to be here."

"Well, thank you, I guess," Sam said slowly.

Gabriel patted Sam's leg and said, "You should get some sleep, Sam." He snapped his fingers and transported Sam to the upstairs bedroom.

Gabriel shifted his weight on the bed as Sam said with clear irritation, "Warn me before you do that. Jesus."

Gabriel smiled innocently. Despite Sam's ruffled feathers, it didn't take long for him to lie down on the bed and fall asleep. Sam looked peaceful, but Gabriel knew the hunter's mind was restless. That was to be expected given the circumstances, but Sam's dreams were especially dark. Gabriel tried his best to soothe him, but when Sam suddenly woke up with a gasp and tears, Gabriel was completely unsurprised. He just wished there was something he could do.

Slowly, Gabriel wrapped his arms around the distressed hunter and guided him to rest his head on Gabriel's chest. He ran his fingers through Sam's hair as Sam cried. Gabriel's heart wept for the broken man. He was much more concerned for Sam than he was about how attached he was getting.

When Sam calmed himself, he said, "You should've kept me at the Mystery Spot longer. Maybe it would've helped with all this."

Gabriel was so shocked by the comment that he barely had the wherewithal to say, "I think you underestimate how stubborn you are."

Sam grew quiet. He didn't go back to sleep, but he stayed with his head resting on Gabriel's chest. Gabriel didn't know what to make of it. It was kind of nice. Gabriel dropped his hand to Sam's back, rubbing the hunter slowly. What the hell was he doing? Why was he being so affectionate? Why did he care so much? This wasn't- but Sam didn't move, he didn't shy away or flinch at the touch.

Sam broke the silence by saying, "I don't know why you're here, but I'm glad you are."

Something warm grew in Gabriel's chest. He continued rubbing Sam's back and whispered, "Anytime, kiddo."

Eventually, Sam fell asleep cuddled up with the archangel.

Gabriel stayed and watched over him until Bobby got home in the morning.


	6. Lazarus Rising

Sam stepped into the shower, the feel of Ruby's lips still lingering on his. He turned on the water and moaned as the warm water trailed down his skin, slowly removing the smell of sex from his body. The last four months had been horrible, but everything with Ruby was kind of nice. Sure, the demon blood was a little weird, but it was nice having someone with him, having someone help him. And while he knew it was just a vessel, Sam really did enjoy Ruby's delicate body. There was definitely a part of him that wanted to call to Ruby and invite her to join him in the shower. She'd saved him from himself after Dean's death, she'd given him direction after his attempted crossroads deals fell through, and he knew he was steadily falling in love with the demon.

As Sam finished rinsing the soap out of his hair, he opened his eyes to see the Trickster standing in the shower with him.

Sam jumped and pulled the shower curtain around himself. "Dude, what the hell?" he said, exasperated.

The Trickster's usual grin was missing; his expression was deadly serious. Over the last four months, the Trickster had been around as well. He frequently soothed Sam's nightmares, and after a hard day of training with Ruby, his jokes and laughs were a godsend. He definitely considered the Trickster a friend, but that did not mean that the demigod could just show up in his shower!

"You need to answer the door," the Trickster said sternly.

"I didn't hear the door," Sam said, jumping out of the shower and speedily pulling on boxers.

The Trickster stepped out of the shower, the water shutting off on its own. He walked up to Sam and invaded his personal space in a way that reminded Sam of the Mystery Spot.

"There's someone at the door, Sam. Trust me," the Trickster said.

Sam pulled on jeans and a grey tshirt. "Ruby is fully capable of answering a door," he said.

The Trickster growled, "Sam!"

Before he could ask why his friend was being so weird, the Trickster was gone. Odd. He walked out of the bathroom with a towel in hand to dry his dripping hair.

Sam heard Ruby say, "So where is it?" Oh, Ruby did say something about ordering a pizza.

"Where's what?" came a gruff voice. Who the hell was at the door?

"The pizza," Ruby said to the visitor, "That takes two guys to deliver."

"I think we've got the wrong room," the voice said.

Sam walked down the hall and asked, "Hey, is-" The rest of his words died in his throat. Sam froze.

Dean. Dean was at the door. It was Dean. But Dean was dead. It couldn't be Dean. But it was Dean. He was right there. Bobby was there, too. How could Bobby be there? He didn't know where he was. But Dean. Dean really couldn't be there. What the hell was going on?

"Heya, Sammy," Dean said. It was Dean's voice. His voice was rough, deeper than the memory of Dean's voice in Sam's head. But it was definitely Dean's voice. Sam barely remembered how to breathe. He inhaled sharply. Dean had been completely shredded by the hellhound. How could he-

This had to be a trick. Dean walked past Ruby and stepped into the motel room with a small smile on his face. Like this was some sort of reunion. Except Dean was dead. And he wasn't ever coming back. This was an imposter. He'd seen monsters wear his brother's face before, but this was too far.

Sam quickly grabbed a blade from his back pocket and charged at the guy that could not be Dean. The Dean lookalike blocked Sam's attack, and Bobby quickly pulled Sam back.

Sam struggled against Bobby. That wasn't Dean. That couldn't be Dean. Dean was dead. Like everyone else.

"Who are you?!" Sam shouted at the imposter.

"Like you didn't do this?" Not Dean snapped.

"Do what?" Sam growled as he tried again to lunge at Not Dean.

Bobby held fast and said quickly, "It's him. It's him, Sam. I've been through this already. It's really him."

Sam's breath came in quick and sharp as he let Bobby's words slowly sink in. "But-" he tried.

"I know," Dean said. He gave Sam a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I look fantastic, huh?" he said.

It was Dean. It was really Dean. Dean was alive. Holy shit.

Sam slowly stepped forward and caught his brother in a tight hug. Four months. It had been four freaking months. Feeling his brother alive and in his arms again made the pain of those four months come rushing back. Sam struggled not to cry. He had his brother back. No wonder the Trickster had been freaking out so badly. Slowly, Sam released Dean and took a step back. Holy crap, Dean was alive. He could barely process that information.

In the silence, Ruby asked innocently, "So...are you two, like, together?" Sam hardly understood what she said.

"What?" Sam said, "No, no." He looked at Ruby for a second. Why was she fucking with him? She knew who Dean was. Of course, Dean didn't know who she was. New meat suit and all.

"He's my brother," Sam explained.

"Oh...got it, I guess. Look, I should probably go," Ruby said.

"Yeah, yeah, that's probably a good idea," Sam said, "Sorry."

Ruby went to go get dressed in the bathroom, and Sam turned around to face his brother. Both Dean and Bobby gave him approving looks regarding Ruby. If they knew who she was, he strongly doubted they'd be as understanding. If they knew what he'd been doing, this whole thing would go a lot differently.

Sam slipped on a white shirt to do something other than stare awkwardly at Dean and Bobby while they waited for Ruby. Ruby came out of the bathroom dressed and walked to the door. Sam opened the door for her. They'd meet up later. Everything would be fine.

"So, call me," Ruby said as she walked out into the hall.

Sam smiled and leaned against the doorframe. "Yeah, yeah, sure thing, Kathy," he said. Hopefully, Dean would hear the made up name and not ask questions about who the girl was.

"Kristy…" Ruby said, intentionally looking saddened. Why? Why was she fucking with him like this?

Sam gave her a tight smile and played along for appearance. "Right," he said. Ruby gave him a shy smile a walked away. Sam wanted to fucking kill her. Really? She knew how bad it would be if Dean knew who she was or what they'd been up to. She could've just played along. And that joke about Dean and Sam being together? What the hell? Sam just thanked his lucky stars that the Trickster had made himself scarce. If Ruby felt the need to mess with him, he could only guess what the demigod would've done.

Sam sighed and closed the door. He would have words with Ruby later. Oh, yes. There would be words.

He turned around to face his family. Dean stood there with his arms folded over his chest, judging Sam silently. Bobby watched him with a mixture of concern and sadness. Just because they thought he didn't know the girl's name? Considering Dean's track record, their reaction was just astounding. And incredibly hypocritical. Sam sat down to put on his shoes.

"So, tell me, what'd it cost?" Dean asked.

Sam looked up at his brother. Seriously? "The girl? I don't pay, Dean," he said.

Dean's grave attitude didn't lighten. "It's not funny, Sam. To bring me back," he said, "what'd it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?"

Sam asked, "You think I made a deal?"

Bobby said quickly, "That's exactly what we think."

"Well, I didn't," Sam said. He went back to tying his shoes without another word on the matter.

Dean said, "Don't lie to me."

Sam looked up at his brother. This was crazy. "I'm not lying," he said defensively.

"So, what? Now, I'm off the hook and you're on? Is that it? You're some demon's bitch boy? I didn't want to be saved like this," Dean snapped, stepping closer to Sam.

Sam stood up, angrily. "Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, alright?" he said. How many times had he prayed to save his brother? How many nights had he seen Dean's mauled corpse in his dreams? If it weren't for the Trickster's words and Ruby's lips, Sam would've gladly joined Dean in Hell.

Dean grabbed fistfuls of Sam's shirt and got right up in Sam's face. "There's no other way this could've gone down. Now, tell the truth," he snapped.

Sam knocked Dean's hands away. "I tried everything. That's the truth," he snapped, "I tried to open the Devil's Gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, alright." He took a deep breath and said more calmly, "You were rotting in Hell for months. For months. And I couldn't stop it. So, I'm sorry it wasn't me, alright. Dean, I'm sorry."

He was sorry. He was so sorry. If he had just killed Jake when he'd had the chance. If he hadn't let his guard down and died that day. None of this would've happened. The Trickster kept telling him that it wasn't his fault, that it had been Dean's choice to sell his soul. But Sam knew this was all on him. Dean had gone to Hell for him, and he hadn't been able to save him. Sam had failed his brother in the worst way imaginable. The Trickster had tried to ease Sam's guilt, but none of his words ever helped. Only Ruby's plan for vengeance on Lilith helped relieve some of the pain. It gave him something to focus on, something to work towards. But even though Dean was alive again, there would never come a day that Sam wouldn't be sorry that Dean went to Hell.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean said quietly, "You don't have to apologize, I believe you."

Bobby said softly, "Don't get me wrong, I am glad that Sam's soul remains intact, but it does raise a sticky question."

"If he didn't pull me out, then what did?" Dean supplied.

Sam looked at Dean with concern. Whatever had raised Dean from Hell had to be crazy strong and definitely supernatural. Whatever it was, Sam had a sickening feeling in his gut that Dean wasn't out of the woods yet. He needed a drink.

Sam walked over to the mini-bar and grabbed three beers. Handing one to Dean and one to Bobby, Sam sat down across from them with his own.

Dean started to open his beer as he asked, "So, what were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out of my grave?"

Sam popped his drink open and said, "Well, once I figured out I couldn't save you, I started hunting down Lilith trying to get some payback." He took a swig from his beer, swallowing any and all mentions of Ruby and the Trickster with it.

Bobby said, "All by yourself. Who do you think you are, your old man?"

As if Sam didn't feel guilty enough. He looked at his hands and said, "Uh, yeah, I'm sorry, Bobby. I should've called. I was pretty messed up."

Dean crossed over to where Sam sat on the bed and picked up Ruby's bra. "Oh, yeah," he said sarcastically, "I really feel your pain." Ruby just had to leave her bra, didn't she? Sam really was going to kill that demon. He brushed off Dean's comment as Dean sat down next to Sam.

"Anyways," Sam said, "I was checking these demons outta Tennessee, and out of nowhere, they took a hard left, booked up here."

"When?" Dean asked.

"Yesterday morning," Sam said.

"When I busted out," Dean said.

Bobby asked, "You think these demons are here because of you?"

Dean shrugged.

"But why?" Sam asked.

"I dunno," Dean said, "Some badass demon drags me out, and now this? It's gotta be connected somehow."

"How're you feeling anyway?" Bobby asked.

"I'm a little hungry," Dean said.

"No," Bobby said, "I mean, do you feel like yourself? Anything strange or different?"

"Or demonic?" Dean asked, defensively, "Bobby, how many times I gotta prove that I'm me?"

Bobby gave Dean a look and said, "Yeah, well, listen, no demons' letting you loose outta the goodness of their hearts. They gotta have something nasty planned."

"Well, I feel fine," Dean said.

Sam said, "Okay, look, we don't know what they're planning. We got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help." As soon as the words left Sam's lips, he wondered why he made such a clunky metaphor. He didn't feel tired. Maybe he was just in so much shock over Dean's resurrection that his brain was short circuiting.

"I know a psychic a few hours from here. Something this big? Maybe she's heard the other side talking," Bobby said.

"Hell yeah. It's worth a shot," Dean said.

"Be right back," Bobby said.

As Bobby went to go call the psychic, Dean stood up.

"Hey, wait," Sam said, getting up, "Probably want this back." He reached into his shirt and pulled Dean's necklace out and over his head. He handed it to him, and the loss of the metal against his chest felt almost foreign.

Ruby thought it was nice that he wore Dean's necklace. She said it was nice to keep something of his brother around. The Trickster told Sam that, while he understood, wearing the necklace everyday probably wasn't very healthy. Somehow he knew that the necklace was serving as a reminder of Dean's death and Sam's failure. Sam deserved the painful reminder, though, so he kept wearing it.

Dean looked at the amulet in his hand and said a quiet, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Sam said.

Dean slipped the necklace over his head, putting it back where it belonged. God, Dean had been dead. He'd been in Hell.

Suddenly, Sam couldn't hold back the nagging worry at the back of his mind. "Hey, Dean, what was it like?" he asked.

Dean look up at Sam and asked, "What, Hell?"

Sam met Dean's eyes and knew he didn't have to say anything.

"I don't know, I-I must've blacked it out," Dean said quickly, "I don't remember a damn thing."

Sam said, "Thank God for that." He didn't know if he fully believed his brother, but either way, Sam figured it was best to leave it alone.

Dean went to use the bathroom, leaving Sam waiting on his family. Soon after, Bobby got off the phone, and they were off to meet the psychic.

"She's about four hours down the interstate," Bobby said, "Try to keep up."

"I assume you'll want to drive," Sam said, tossing Dean the keys to the Impala.

Dean caught the keys and laughed, "Oh, I almost forgot. Hey, sweetheart, you miss me?" Dean was smiling brightly as he walked up to his car.

As Dean slid into the driver's seat, it almost felt like old times. Sam almost felt normal again. Sam got in the passenger seat to see Dean staring confused and betrayed at the radio.

"What the hell is that?" Dean asked, tone accusing.

"It's an iPod jack," Sam said.

"You were supposed to take care of her, not douche her up," Dean said.

Sam laughed and said, "Dean, I thought it was my car."

Dean hit Sam with a grade A bitchface and turned the key in the ignition. The last song Sam had been listening to blasted through the Impala.

Dean stared at Sam, expression full of judgment and irritation. "Really?" he said.

Sam shrugged innocently. There was nothing wrong with Jason Manns' music. The guy had a good voice, his guitar skills were great. Just because it wasn't Led Zeppelin didn't mean that it wasn't worth listening to.

Dean rolled his eyes and yanked the iPod out of the radio, tossing it into the backseat.

About ten minutes into the drive, Dean started asking about Lilith and Ruby and what happened after he died. Sam dodged most of Dean's questions with half answers and half truths. There were moments where he had to flat out lie, but it was better that way. Dean had just come back from the dead. No need to worry him or get him upset. He just wanted a peaceful drive with his brother, not start a fight with him. And a fight was the only thing the truth would achieve with Dean.

After a while, Dean put on the radio, and Sam settled in for the long, classic rock fueled drive. He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but when he found himself sitting next to the Trickster on a shoreline overlooking a sunlit beach, he knew he must be dreaming.

"Why are we on a beach?" Sam asked.

The Trickster grinned and said, "This is your subconscious, Samsquatch. Maybe you wanted to go to the beach with me."

Sam rolled his eyes. He decided to cut to the chase since he had the Trickster's attention. "You knew Dean was back," he said.

The Trickster's smile faltered slightly. "I did," he said cautiously.

"And do you know how he got out of Hell?" Sam asked.

"Why are you lying to Dean?" the Trickster asked.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I don't want to answer your question. Why are you lying to your brother?"

"Is there any point in time that you're not spying on me?" Sam asked.

The Trickster laughed and said, "I don't want to answer that question either."

"I can't tell Dean what's going on with Ruby or my abilities. He'd freak out. You know that," Sam said.

"Well, if you had listened to me about the demon, maybe you wouldn't have to lie," the Trickster said evenly.

"Ruby was trying to help me. She is trying to help me," Sam defended.

The Trickster rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah. Help you. Right. That's what she was doing when she started feeding you her blood. Gosh, I keep forgetting that," he said.

Sam sighed and said, "It's a means to an end."

The Trickster said, "No. Killing your brother over and over to get you to wake up and take care of yourself is a means to an end. What you've been doing is just stupid and reckless."

"What would you have had me do, huh? Just let it lie?" Sam snapped.

"Yes!" the Trickster said, standing up in the sand and looking down at Sam, "Yes! If you recall, I advised you to live a normal life. Remember the life you wanted before Dean showed up at Stanford? I told you to go live your life, not start hooking up with some no good, black-eyed-"

Sam stood up and stared at the Trickster. "Are you...jealous?" he asked slowly.

The Trickster laughed, but Sam knew that laugh. It was the laugh that masked something else. He'd seen Dean use it countless times. Hell, he'd seen the Trickster use it quite a bit, too.

"Jealous? Of a demon? Sam, c'mon," the Trickster said, trying to brush it off.

"Holy shit," Sam said, "You're jealous of Ruby. Why? Why would a demigod be jealous of demon?"

"That's a damn good question, Sammy. It makes no sense. Why would I be jealous of that bitch? It's ridiculous, it's preposterous. Which is why I am not at all jealous of her," the Trickster insisted.

Sam said, "Except you are. I can see it."

The Trickster's smile stayed plastered on his face. "That's a good one, Sam. But you're seeing things," he said.

"I don't think you've ever been in the same room with Ruby. She certainly doesn't know who you are, anyway. The only thing you'd have to be jealous of her over is...me," Sam said. As he said it, he stared at the Trickster, confused. He remembered the nights when his nightmares got so bad that the Trickster would stay the night to make sure he slept soundly. He remembered how the Trickster had been there the night that Dean died.

The Trickster's smile faded, and he faced Sam with a strong gaze. "Leave it alone, Sam," he said sternly.

"No, you need to explain to me why you would possibly be jealous of Ruby over me," Sam said.

"I don't know," the Trickster said.

Sam asked, "What do you mean you don't know?"

The Trickster turned away from Sam for a second and raised his hand to snap his fingers like he always did before leaving Sam's dreams.

Sam quickly grabbed the Trickster's hand. "My brother just came back from the dead, something really bad could be going on. The last thing I need is for you to just disappear," he said.

The Trickster pulled his hand away from Sam and stared out over the water. "I don't know, okay?" he said, "I don't know why I care so much. I don't know why I'm here. I don't know why I keep coming back. I just…" He turned back to Sam and looked him in the eye. He said, "Here's what I do know. I know that Ruby is poisonous. I know that the demon blood is a terrible idea. I know you won't listen to me, but I know I won't stop trying to get you to see reason about this. Because I know that I care about you way more than I should."

What?

"You care about me?" Sam asked, "I mean, I guess that makes sense since we're friends and all, but-"

"That's not what I mean. I can't-I don't know how to-"

"Are you...are you trying to say that you like me?" Sam asked. He was in shock. Again. Did the Trickster actually have some sort of feelings for him? It was strange enough that a demon could be affectionate towards him, but a demigod? Having feelings for Sam? What?

The Trickster rolled his eyes and said, "I'm saying that you have me off balance in the worst way, and I am not having this conversation with you right now. You have more important things to do, like deal with what's going on with Dean."

Sam clung onto the small bastion of sanity in the Trickster's words and ignored the fact that his friend basically admitted to having a crush on him. "And what exactly is going on with Dean?" he asked.

The Trickster's bravado and knowing smirk was back. "You're going to find out soon," he said.

Sam said, "That's really clear and insightful."

"I'm here to please," the Trickster said with a grin.

"You want to tell me what pulled Dean out of Hell?" Sam asked.

The Trickster smiled and gave Sam an eyebrow bounce. "Nope," he said with a shit eating grin, "I do have to talk to you about something, though. I'm going to-"

Sam bolted awake in the Impala.

"Good morning, sunshine," Dean said with a laugh. Music was blasting from the radio. Sam blinked and looked around, slowly adjusting to being awake. It was beginning to be light out.

"How long was I out?" Sam asked.

"Nearly the whole way. Bobby said about four hours about four hours ago. We should be there any minute," Dean said.

Sam tried to shake the feelings of confusion and irritation from his conversation with the Trickster as they followed Bobby to the psychic's house. Turned out, the trip to the psychic's house was pointless. Pamela Barnes didn't know anything. All the visit managed to do was land Pam in the hospital with burnt out eyes, give Sam a horrible sinking feeling about that hand print on Dean's shoulder, and give them a name that Sam would be glad never to hear again, Castiel.

After a small run in with some demons at a diner, Sam realized that Dean was much more eager to meet this Castiel thing than he was comfortable with. Sam figured it would be smarter to just take care of the demons in the diner, so they didn't wreak more havoc, but Dean wasn't having it. All Dean wanted to do was summon Castiel and get a good look at this thing in person.

That night, Dean fell asleep in their hotel room, and Sam decided he was going to go with his gut. He'd been making decisions without Dean for four months. He'd been hunting without Dean for four months. He could take care of some demons and be back before Dean even woke up.

Sam watched his brother carefully to make sure he didn't wake up. He silently slipped out of the room and out to the Impala. It was just a few demons. Someone had to take care of them. It'd be fine. Once Sam parked outside the diner where the demons had been, he sat for a moment. Maybe he should've been more adamant with Dean. It was weird having him back. It was nice, more than nice, but it was weird. He'd been more or less independent over the last few months. It felt weird sneaking around behind Dean's back just to gank demons.

Just then, his phone rang. It was Dean. Shit.

"Hey," Sam answered.

"What're you doing?" Dean asked.

Sam fought a sigh. "Couldn't sleep. Went to get a burger," he said. The lie rolled off his tongue with ease that should've alarmed him. But the lie was necessary. Dean would just lose it on him otherwise.

"In my car?" Dean asked.

"Force of habit, sorry," Sam said, "What're you doing up?"

Dean said, "Well, uhh, Bobby's back. Goin' to grab a beer." Sam didn't quite believe him. Then again, if Dean was lying, it would make his lie much easier.

"Alright, well, uhh, spill some for me, huh?" Sam said.

Dean replied, "Done. Yeah, I'll catch you later."

Dean hung up, and Sam pocketed his phone, looking across the street at the diner. This would be easier with Dean, but at least Dean wasn't going to try and stop him. Plus, without Dean, he'd be able to practice the skills he and Ruby had been working on.

Sam got out of the car and walked across the dark street to the diner's front door. He pulled it open quietly, surprised to find it unlocked. Soft music played from the juke box, giving the darkened diner an incredibly eerie feeling. Looking around, the place seemed to be empty. Then, he saw it.

Behind the bar, one of the diner workers lie face down on the ground. Something was definitely amiss here. Sam approached the body cautiously, kneeling down to inspect closer. Blood was caked around the man's knuckles. Turning the body over, he saw the man's eyes were burnt out of his skull. It looked exactly like the type of injury Pamela had suffered. Whatever that Castiel thing was must have come through here. Sam recognized the dead man as one of the demons from earlier. Was Castiel a demon? A demon killing other demons? None of this added up.

Sam slowly stood up, staring at the body, when something attacked him, tackling into him from the right. The demon punched him across the face repeatedly, straddling his chest and wailing away at his head. Sam grabbed the demon's head and headbutted her until he was able to throw her off and get back to his feet. Right away, the demon lunged at Sam, punching him in the face again. Sam shook it off quickly, grabbing his assailant and landing his knee in her solar plexus multiple times.

He shoved her away and braced himself to fend her off again. But she paused. And he saw why. The demon had no eyes. Just like the guy behind the bar. Just like Pam. Shit.

"Your eyes," Sam said.

"I can still smell your soul a mile away," the demon said defensively.

Sam said, "It was here. You saw it."

The demon's voice broke as she confirmed that Sam was right. "I saw it," she said.

"What was it?" Sam asked.

She shuddered and said, "It's the end. We're dead. We're all dead."

"What'd you see?" Sam pressed.

The demon said softly, "Go to Hell."

Sam bristled. Hell was the last thing he wanted to think about now that Dean was back. "Funny," he seethed, "I was going to say the same thing to you."

He raised his hand towards the demon and focused. He reached out with his mind and slowly, piece by piece, ripped the demon out of its host. It was easier this time. No bleeding, no headache.

But the host hadn't survived. She would've been blind, but still.

"Damn it," he said under his breath.

Just then, Ruby stepped out from the kitchen. When she got back there, Sam had no idea, but she was here now. "Getting pretty slick there, Sam. Better all the time," she said.

Sam smiled at her, trying to show appreciation for the praise, but there were more important things going on.

"What the hell's going on around here, Ruby?" Sam asked.

"I wish I knew," Ruby said softly.

Sam said, "We were thinking some high level demon pulled Dean out."

"No way," Ruby said, "Sam, human souls don't just walk outta Hell and back into their bodies easy. This guy bleeds, the ground quakes. It's cosmic. No demon can swing that. Not Lilith. Not anybody."

"Then what can?" Sam asked. There had to be answers. It had to be something. If not a demon, then what?

Ruby said, "Nothing I've ever seen before." Sam didn't like the sound of that. Ruby had been around for a long time. If she didn't know…

"Great, you don't know. The Trickster knows, but he's being all cryptic, so that's not gonna lead anywhere," Sam said with a sigh. He sat down at a table with all the enthusiasm of a dog going to the vet.

Ruby put her hands on her hips and asked, "Who's the Trickster?"

"He's a friend," Sam said, "And so far, he seems like the only one who's got an idea of what's going on, but he won't say."

"Why don't you make him?" Ruby suggested.

Sam shook his head and said, "Like I said, he's a friend. And it's not that simple. He's a Trickster God. You can't exactly make him do anything."

Ruby stared at the ceiling in exasperation. She said, "A Trickster God, Sam? Really?"

"Oh, like you can judge who I'm friends with," Sam said.

Ruby flashed her eyes black with a smile curling across her face. Looking at Sam with human eyes again, she said, "Point made. Just careful with him, okay?"

Sam rolled his eyes, and Ruby sat down across from him. She changed the subject. "So, million dollar question," she said, "You gonna tell Dean about what we're doing?"

"Yeah, I just got figure out the right way to say it," Sam said.

Ruby stared at him, and Sam sighed. It was a lot of pressure to have to tell Dean something that he definitely wouldn't want to hear.

Sam said, "Look, I just need time, that's all."

"Sam, he's gonna find out, and if it's not from you, he's gonna be pissed."

"He's gonna be pissed anyway. He's so hardheaded about this psychic stuff, he'll just try and stop me."

"Look, maybe I'll just take a step back for a while," Ruby said.

"Ruby," Sam protested.

Ruby ignored him, "I mean, I'm not exactly in your brother's fan club. But he is your brother. And I'm not gonna come between you."

Sam took a breath and said, "I don't know if what I'm doing is right. Hell, I don't even know if I trust you."

"Thanks," Ruby said as if she were offended.

"What I do know is that I'm saving people," Sam said, "And stopping demons. And that feels good. I want to keep going."

Ruby smiled. "Good," she said, "We can keep going. Just make sure you know what you're doing with Dean."

"I can handle my brother," Sam said.

"Speaking of which, shouldn't you be with him instead of sitting in a diner full of corpses with me?" Ruby asked.

Sam looked at the dead waitstaff. She was probably right. Dean was out with Bobby, or so he said, but Sam and Ruby should probably not wait around for the bodies to start smelling. "Yeah, we should get out of here. I'll keep you posted," he said.

Ruby nodded and got up. "See you around, Sam," she said, giving him a coy smile.

She walked out the front door.

Sam was about to do the same when a hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around. He got ready to fight again when he realized it was the Trickster. Something dark was playing in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked, confused.

"I still need to talk to you," the Trickster said urgently, "I'm gonna lay low for a while."

"Why? What's going on?" Sam asked. He just got his brother back, he definitely didn't want to lose anyone else for a long, long time.

The Trickster said, "It's too dangerous for me to be around right now. I don't know what's going on, but when I do, I'll come back, I promise."

"Is this about what pulled Dean out of Hell?" Sam asked.

The Trickster said, "Yes, yes. It is entirely about that. I need to get out of dodge."

"If you could just tell me what the thing is, maybe I'd be able to help," Sam said.

"There's no point," the Trickster said, "I just-I need to go. I just wanted to say goodbye first."

Sam grabbed his friend's wrist and caught his gaze with a sharp stare. "Let me help," he said.

The Trickster looked back at him with a twinge of excitement and fear in his eyes. It was the kind of look that Sam had only seen once, the look he'd only seen when he'd first asked out Jess. Holy shit, the Trickster really did have feelings for him. Sam almost let his friend go out of shock. Almost.

"It's an angel, Sam," the Trickster said. That caused Sam to drop the Trickster's arm.

"What?" Sam asked. He couldn't have heard that right.

"Castiel is an angel," the Trickster said, "And I need to get as far away from him as possible right now. You know how to call for me, right?"

Sam just stared at the Trickster. An angel? An angel saved Dean? What?

"Umm, no," Sam said as he realized his friend wanted an answer, "You just sort of show up."

The Trickster sighed and said, "Just call for me. It's kind of like praying. I'll hear you, and I'll come running."

"How does that-" Sam started.

The Trickster smiled up at Sam and said, "See you around, kiddo." With that, he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Before Sam could even blink, his phone rang. Would he ever be able to leave this fucking diner?

It was Dean.

Sam answered the phone. "Hey, where are you?" he asked.

Dean said, "I'll text you the address. I need your help with Bobby."

"What's wrong with Bobby?" Sam asked, alarmed.

"Nothing, he's just unconscious. I can't quite get him into the car, so if you could hurry your ass over here-"

"He's unconscious?" Sam asked, rushing to the Impala and fishing the keys out of his pocket, "What the hell happened?"

"Castiel put him to sleep," Dean said, "It's a long story."

"Castiel? You met it?! You summoned the damn thing didn't you," Sam said.

Dean said, "This is not what I called to talk about. Just get here."

Dean hung up, and Sam sighed frustratedly. His brother had just come back to life. Why was he so intent on being so goddamn reckless?

Sam worried about the Trickster and why he felt the need to hide from an angel. He worried about Ruby and telling Dean about their work. Mostly, he worried about Dean.

The second Dean's text reached his phone, Sam tore off towards the highway.


	7. Monster at the End of This Book

They had better be fucking kidding. Books? There were freaking books about all of this? It was like the Bible all over again.

Gabriel paced in his new apartment, trying to figure out what to do. He'd been trying to keep his distance from the Winchesters now that they had angels all over them all the time. Plus, the knowledge that Dean Winchester had broken the first seal had Gabriel wanting to rip any and all thought of Sam out of his head. The boy was doomed, he'd known that from the beginning. But now the seal was broken. Dean was out, and the angels would be pushing for Armageddon like there was no tomorrow. And there wouldn't be a tomorrow if Gabriel didn't do something.

But what could he do? The angels only had to break 66 of the seals, and there were so many, Gabriel wouldn't even know which ones to warn the boys about. He could tell them about the last seal. Except he couldn't. He really couldn't. The angels surrounding the boys would know something tipped them off. And they would know exactly who did it. Other angels didn't have the level of knowledge he had. Most of them weren't even there when Lucifer fell. Only an archangel would know about the last seal, and Gabriel would be the only one to side with humans.

He wanted to do something, but being hauled back to Heaven was definitely not worth a couple billion humans.

Gabriel kept pacing. That wasn't why he'd started watching Sam Winchester again. He wanted to stay away because of angels, because of the possible apocalypse, but he had to make sure Sam was okay. He knew the kid believed in angels even before Dean came back. He knew Sam was going to get his hopes crushed. There were one, maybe two, decent angels in Heaven, and none of them had ever set foot on Earth. None of the angels cared about humans anymore. Hell, Gabriel didn't even care about humans. Well, not all of them. Just...just one. He'd admitted it to himself a while ago, that he had feelings for Sam. Sam had figured it out pretty quick, too. And honestly, it added insult to injury. The first being that Gabriel had feelings for after running from Heaven was going to die or start the apocalypse or something much, much worse.

Right now, the choice wasn't Heaven or Earth, the choice was conceal identity or not. And that...that was an easy choice.

He'd been watching Sam every once and a while. Just to make sure he was okay, not to hear his laugh or see his hazel eyes that made Gabriel feel like the planet was out of orbit. It was just to make sure he was okay. He couldn't risk soothing Sam's nightmares while there were so many angels lurking around them. They'd sense his grace from a mile away. So, he was just checking in. He stayed invisible, kept his awareness up in case of angels, the usual.

The boys were on a hunt, surprise, surprise, and they had been accused of LARPing. Because of the Supernatural books. At first, Gabriel had been close to leaving. Humans had written plenty about hunters in the past. Bram Stoker wrote lovely things about Dr. Van Helsing. Really, it wasn't headline news or anything. Fiction was fiction, nothing to worry about. But then, Dean picked up the first book.

"Supernatural by Carver Edlund. Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures men to their deaths," Dean said, reading the synopsis from the back of the book. The plot summary was too close. The first book just happened to be the same kind of case Sam and Dean had worked when their father had first gone missing? Not a coincidence. This was weird.

"Gimme that," Sam said, snatching the book from Dean.

Gabriel looked at the cover from next to Sam. Well, Sam certainly didn't look like that. Nobody looked like that except for Fabio. Still, the character were Sam and Dean, and they were hunters. Maybe this Carver Edlund guy was a psychic?

Then, Gabriel's eye spotted something truly terrifying. One of the books in the bargain bin said "Supernatural: Mystery Spot." What if his name was in the books? What if this psychic or whatever knew his real fucking name? Gabriel couldn't just grab the book, not with the boys standing there. Fuck. What if some psychic author blew his fucking cover?

"We're gonna need all the copies of Supernatural you got," Sam said to the clerk.

Shit. What if Sam learned Gabriel's real name? Shit. Shit. Shit.

Gabriel ran back to his apartment and started pacing again. He needed to find this Carver Edlund right fucking now. He could tell it was a pseudonym, nobody had a name that pretentious. But somebody had to know this guy's real name. Maybe the editor? Who the fuck was the editor? Why was this happening?

Gabriel flew quickly to Sam and Dean's motel room, keeping invisible all the while. As long as they hadn't looked at the Mystery Spot one, maybe he was okay. The book was strewn haphazardly on the floor. Gabriel wondered if Sam had read it. He wondered if Sam was mad at him for the Mystery Spot again. He really wanted to read Sam's mind and see what had happened, but Sam would feel him in there. He'd know he was around. He couldn't do that.

Gabriel silently flipped the Mystery Spot book open to a page towards the end.

"There's Sam girls and Dean girls," Dean said, looking at Sam's computer, "And...what's a slash fan?"

Gabriel scanned the page he was looking at.

"As in Sam slash Dean," Sam said, disgust present in his voice, "Together."

Gabriel almost dropped the page he was holding. Sam and Dean as a couple? What? He'd really thought that trend had gone out in the late Renaissance.

"Like together, together?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam said quickly.

"They do know we're brothers, right?" Dean asked.

Sam said, "Doesn't seem to matter."

"Aw, c'mon," Dean said, "That...that's just sick."

Gabriel kept reading. It was all from Sam's perspective. He tried to pretend that Sam's notice of the "fire in his amber eyes" didn't send his heart racing. He was going to steal this book and read it cover to cover. If there was one for the interaction at Crawford Hall, he'd read that one, too. Any and all mentions of Gabriel were written as "The Trickster," so that was a blessing in and of itself. He could relax and let the hilarity of the boys finding these books ensue.

He had one loose end that he had to take care of, though. If these books were so incredibly accurate, there was a good chance that the author did know Gabriel's identity even if he didn't use it. It was a risk that he couldn't take. He needed to find Carver Edlund.

"We gotta find Carver Edlund," Dean said.

"Yeah, that might not be so easy," Sam said.

"Why not?" Dean asked.

"No tax records, no known address," Sam said, "Looks like Carver Edlund is a pen name."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. He was more than willing to hitch along for the ride of finding the guy, but the boys had just figured out that Carver Edlund was a fake name? The name sounded fake. How on Earth-

Gabriel stuck around long enough for Sam and Dean to decide to take a visit to the publisher, and he took off. He appeared in the publisher's office, causing the woman at the desk to gasp.

"Where did you come from?" she asked, clearly in shock, "What are you? What are you doing here?"

Gabriel didn't bother answering. He needed information. He took a step towards her and she scooted back in her desk chair, scared.

She cleared her throat and tucked the dyed blonde section of her hair behind her ear. She sat up straighter and said, "You can't possess me. I have a tattoo."

Gabriel laughed and said, "I'm not a demon, lady." He touched her forehead and got all the information that he needed to know.

Carver Edlund was really Chuck Shurley. That set off several thousand alarm bells in his head. Chuck Shurley was a prophet. Fuck.

Gabriel quickly erased all memory of himself from the publisher's mind and disappeared.

He needed to find out how much the prophet knew, but one of his brothers was protecting the prophet. It was probably Raphael since Michael was all too busy running things these days. He couldn't risk a visit without being discovered. But if Chuck knew his true name, he could be discovered anyway. Shit. Maybe if he just slipped by without being a threat or anything. Who was he kidding, he was an archangel. Raphael would know him the minute he touched ground near the prophet. If Sam wasn't so damn sensitive, he could probably tag along in Sam's subconscious. Crap. There was no way to find out if his cover was compromised without compromising his cover.

He went back to his new apartment and paced. He paced for what seemed like hours. Wearing a rut in the floor would be the least of his worries. Slowly, he started to feel an overwhelming sadness. Not sadness, really, but helplessness. It was Sam. He knew it was Sam that felt so strongly. Something was wrong. But he couldn't go to him. It was too dangerous, it was an unacceptable risk.

Gabriel showed up in Sam's motel room, invisible, scanning for angels. Sam was pacing and looking around rapidly the way that he did when he was upset but trying very hard not to be. Gabriel really didn't like the way he was looking. He wanted very badly to reach into Sam's mind and see what was troubling him so badly.

A knock came at the door. Gabriel jumped. He was supposed to be scanning for angels and hadn't noticed someone walking up to the door. Sam opened the door.

"You wanted to see me?" the guy said.

"Yeah," Sam said. He opened the door further and gestured for the visitor to step in.

Gabriel stepped behind a divider in the room with some purple stained glass with a bull on it. Who was this guy?

"Thank for coming," Sam said.

The guy shrugged and said, "Yeah, sure."

Something was intensely familiar about this guy. Gabriel's curiosity was piqued. There was something about this guy. Something.

"Umm...I was just wondering how much you know...about me," Sam said.

This was Chuck. This was the prophet. Of course he seemed familiar, he was connected to Heaven. To his brothers.

Gabriel ran. He flew as fast and as hard as he could. He stopped in Nicaragua and quickly began flying again. He wanted to fly until his wings gave out, till he couldn't find himself any more than his brothers could.

He finally stopped running when he reached the South Pole. It wasn't the beaches that he normally preferred, but the waves were still calming.

A penguin blinked at him. Gabriel stared back at the penguin. He still wanted to find out if Chuck knew his name.

The penguin waddled over to Gabriel with its wings outstretched for balance. Maybe he was worrying over nothing. Clearly, if Chuck knew, Raphael would've figured it out by now. Chuck had been writing since 2005. Raphael would've had years to pick the prophet's brain if the thought had occurred to him. Maybe he didn't have to worry. At least not about his cover being blown.

Gabriel sat down in the snow as the penguin stumbled over with a squawk and landed in the archangel's lap. What was this penguin doing away from his family? Penguins never did well on their own.

Gabriel smiled down at the penguin and snapped his fingers, returning the little guy to the rest of its colony. Sometimes he wished he could do the same. Sometimes he dreamt of snapping his fingers and going home to Heaven. But Heaven wasn't home anymore. Nowhere was. And the empty antarctic tundra was a good a place as any to sit and wish for a new home. A new home with hazel eyes and a warm smile. A new home that was just as doomed as his old one.


	8. The Rapture

Sam and Dean watched the flames die down around the corpse of the half-brother they never knew. Dean poured a little more lighter fluid on the blaze to make sure everything would turn to ash. Sam wanted to ask Dean more about that comment that he was more like their dad than Dean was. He wanted to make sure that Dean wasn't upset that Sam was okay with Adam pursuing hunting...well the ghoul that was pretending to be Adam pursuing hunting. Sam squeezed the bandage over one of his arms to keep himself from saying anything. The sting kept him quiet. Now wasn't a time for words. It was a time to grieve and remember someone they never actually met.

When all that was left of Adam Milligan was embers and ash, Dean nudged Sam and nodded towards the car. Part of Sam would've been glad to trade places with Adam. He wanted no part of Lilith and the angels. He was done with Heaven, Hell, all of it. He just wanted it to be over. He followed Dean to the Impala as if on autopilot. They didn't speak the whole ride to the motel. Dean clearly didn't want to talk, and Sam didn't have anything to say that wouldn't either make things worse or hurt like hell.

Dean parked the Impala in the motel parking lot and climbed out of the car silently. Sam followed suit. Maybe after a good night's rest, he'd feel better about everything that had happened. He couldn't shake the overwhelming anger that John Winchester had fucked them over again, but more than that, he felt sadness. He'd had a little brother for a few hours. Then that brother was actually a ghoul and tried to kill him, but there had been a few hours. He'd never really known Adam, but he'd lost a brother. And Sam felt it to his core.

They walked inside the motel room and collapsed on their respective beds.

Dean rolled over on his side and faced Sam. "I'm sorry about Adam," he said.

Sam looked over at his brother for a moment before laying on his back to face the ceiling. "Yeah," he said, "Me, too."

Sam closed his eyes and soon found himself standing in a large field. The sun was bright, but the warmth was rather relaxing. He was about to plop down in the grass when two hands grabbed his jacket tightly.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Sam?" the Trickster snapped.

Sam grabbed the Trickster's shoulders roughly and asked, "Where the fuck have you been?"

The Trickster shoved Sam away. "Oh, no. No, we're not going there. We're talking about why the hell you don't trust me anymore," he said.

Sam huffed. He had no intention of letting the Trickster's disappearing act drop. He would get answers. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked.

"Before I left, I told you to call me if you needed anything," the Trickster said, eyes blazing with anger, "Why is it that I felt you being bled out, and I didn't get a single damn call?"

"It was just ghouls. I was fine," Sam said.

"Fine my ass!" the Trickster snapped, "I felt your fucking life draining. You call that fine?"

Sam sighed and said, "I'm clearly alive. Why do you care so much anyway?"

The Trickster shook his head, frustrated. "We're not doing this," he said.

Sam took a step towards the Trickster and said, "No, I need answers. You pretty much tell me you have feelings for me, and then I don't see you for months, for nearly a whole year? What the hell is going on?"

The Trickster stared up at him with a hint of fear in his golden eyes. "Sam, don't," he said quietly.

"I need to know. If you can't tell me everything, fine, but give me something," Sam said.

The Trickster took a few steps away from him, studying the blades of grass at his feet intently. Sam knew the Trickster liked his secrecy, but he had to know what was going on.

The Trickster said softly, "The angels are dangerous. I've had run-ins with them in the past, and they're a threat to me. That's why I ran, okay? Angels are all over you guys, and I needed to hide."

"Are you safe now?" Sam asked.

The Trickster sighed and said, "Not remotely. Hell, being here is risky."

"Then, why are you here?" Sam asked.

"To make sure that you're okay," the Trickster said, "I felt your life ebbing. I needed to-"

"Which makes me wonder, again, why do you care so goddamn much about what happens to me?" Sam asked.

"Why do you keep asking that?"

"Because you never answer me."

"Sam."

"Trickster."

The Trickster groaned in exasperation and asked, "Can't you just accept that I care?"

Sam looked at the Trickster. No, he couldn't just accept it. He was so broken and damaged and awful. How could-

"You're not any of those things," the Trickster said.

"Yes, I am," Sam said, "I'm tainted, evil even. I'm drinking demon blood for Christ sake! I don't even deserve the love of the demon. Explain to me how a demigod could possible give a rat's ass about someone like me." Sam felt hot tears at the back of his throat, but he was far too stubborn to let them loose. At the Trickster's silence, Sam looked at the ground. The silence was all Sam needed. He was right. There was no reason the Trickster could have for caring about him.

"Sam," the Trickster said, "Look at me."

Sam hesitated for a moment, worried he'd lose his composure, but he met the Trickster's amber eyes anyway.

"You're not evil, Sam," the Trickster said.

Sam shook his head with a bitter laugh. He wasn't evil. Yeah, right.

"Seriously, Sam, listen. You're not evil. You're really not," the Trickster said, taking Sam's hands in his, "You're perfect. And I don't mean just physically, though you are definitely not hard on the eyes, let me tell ya. But you, as a person, are perfect. I know it's cliche and everyone has flaws, blah, blah, blah. I know you're flawed, but you try. You try to be better and do the right thing. That's why you're amazing, Sam. Most people would go crazy from the stuff you've been through, but you just keep fighting. And you shine, kiddo." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

Sam didn't know what to say, but he didn't pull his hands away.

The Trickster continued, "And for the record, you don't deserve any demon, especially not Ruby. You deserve so much more than that. Sam, I really wish you could see yourself. I've been alive a lot longer than this planet has existed, and I've never met a human that I've even liked let alone developed any sort of attachment to. Except you. You stand out to me from all of humanity, Sam. And that means something. There is no one that has ever lived that I care about more than you, and you need to know that."

Sam stared at his friend. What could he possibly say to that? He squeezed the Trickster's hand gently.

"Sammy, wake up!" Dean shouted.

Sam looked around the dark motel room blearily. He was still in shock from talking to the Trickster. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to kill his brother.

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam snapped.

"It's Cas. We've got to go," Dean said.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, slowly getting up.

Dean scribbled something down quickly on a piece of paper. "Cas showed up in my dream. He said he needs to talk. He gave me this address to meet him. We need to go," he said.

Sam sighed. He felt like arguing in the hopes that he could get back to sleep. But the way Dean was about Cas, Sam knew if Dean thought there was something wrong, there'd be no stopping him from going. As he pulled on his pants, he wondered idly when he'd have to start referring to Castiel as his brother-in-law. Maybe this little adventure would give him some time to figure out what the hell to say to the Trickster after all that.

After a few hours, it seemed pretty clear that they were going to be saddled with this Jimmy Novak guy for a while. Dean was so restless wanting to find out what happened to Cas that it was seriously starting to grate on Sam's nerves. He didn't say anything about it, though, because Sam knew what else was getting under his skin. He was able to keep a lid on it until 4:34am.

The one major downside of drinking demon blood was when it started to wear off.

Sam sat up at 4:34am with his hands shaking and his head pounding. It felt awful. Silently, he left the motel room, making sure neither Jimmy nor Dean woke up. He made sure he was safely behind the vending machine before pulling out the silver flask. Honestly, the flask made him feel even worse. Like he was an alcoholic or something. But he needed his head to stop hurting so bad. He could feel his heartbeat with how hard his head was pounding.

Sam opened the flask and poured a dollop of demon blood onto his hand, quickly licking it like it was chocolate syrup. The taste was godawful, but the same couldn't be said for the results. Already, his hands had stopped shaking. He sucked his hand clean, making sure he got every drop. He poured some more into his hand and sucked the bloody mess from his skin. He hated this. But he needed it. He needed to be strong.

Sam emptied the flask before pulling out his phone to call Ruby. He got her freaking voicemail. He was getting too used to the demon blood. It wasn't affecting him as much as it used to. With the flask out, he knew it would only be a matter of hours until it wore off and left him with the worst hangover ever. Sam called Ruby again. Nothing. Shit. He pocketed his phone and headed back to the motel room only to discover that Jimmy Novak was gone. Great.

Sam hurried over to Dean's bed. "Dean, wake up," he said, shoving his brother, "Jimmy's gone."

Dean groaned and looked around the room. "He must've gone home," he muttered sleepily.

Sam nudged Dean's shoulder. "Yeah, we can't let him go home, Dean," he said.

"He'll be fine. Go to bed," Dean said with slurred speech.

"We can't just let him go. He's going to put his family in danger. He's in danger. We can't just-"

"Jimmy's not going to get to Pontiac, Illinois from here in one night. We'll find him in the morning. Go to sleep."

"But Dean-"

"Sam, don't make me tuck you in."

Sam sighed in frustration and plopped onto his bed. First, the Trickster's being all emotional and ridiculous, then Ruby's not answering her phone, then Dean doesn't want to get out of bed to save a guy from his own stupidity. Sam was about to lose his shit. He knew he'd be feeling the after effects of the blood in the morning, and he didn't have any more to fix it with, so Sam stayed up to enjoy the small amount of peace he'd be allowed to have.

By the time Dean woke up, Sam was already feeling shaky. While Dean brushed his teeth, Sam hid his shaking hands by busily packing things and trying to rush his brother along.

When Dean asked where Sam had been when Jimmy left, Sam had nearly had it. "I was getting a Coke," he snapped.

Dean grinned and asked, "Was it a refreshing Coke?" Sam was going to punch him in the damn face. They should've been on the road hours ago.

"Can we just go, please?" Sam asked.

On the way to Pontiac to hopefully intercept Jimmy, Anna showed up in the backseat of the Impala. Dean swerved so much he nearly wound up in oncoming traffic.

And of course, when Anna asked about how Jimmy got away from them, Dean just pointed a thumb at Sam and said, "Talk to Ginormo here."

Sam was just done. He was ten kinds of done.

"Sam," Anna said, "You seem...different." Sam didn't know if angels could sense demon blood, but he knew that was what the difference was. He was running out. His head was already starting to swim.

"Me?" Sam asked, trying desperately to play it off, "Uh, I dunno. A haircut?"

Anna stared at Sam and said evenly, "That's not what I'm talking about."

Sam really didn't want Dean to find out this way. He let it drop and hoped Anna would, too. He glanced at Dean before staring back out the windshield. Luckily, Anna did let it drop and just continued interrogating them about Jimmy. The way she painted Heaven didn't give Sam much of a good feeling. It sounded like Cas was getting tortured. Dean seemed pretty concerned, and honestly, it made sense why the Trickster was so afraid of the angels. Sam hoped Cas was okay, but he couldn't spend much time focusing on it before his head started pounding again.

By the time they stopped at a gas station, the pain in his head was near blinding. It was all he could do not to show Dean how bad it was. While Dean gassed up, Sam excused himself to go to the bathroom. The second he was out of sight, he called Ruby. Again, he got her voicemail.

"Where the hell are you, Ruby? This isn't funny anymore. I'm all out. Stop whatever you're doing. Call me," Sam said, "I need more." He blinked a few times to keep the world from spinning, not that it helped any. He really needed more blood, which meant that Ruby really, really needed to pick up her damn phone. Sam headed back out to Dean so they could hit the road again.

Of course, the demons were already there when Sam and Dean arrived. Sam was barely able to make it up to the house without his head swimming, but the second Dean saw a demon with a knife on a kid, he took off into the house without a moment's hesitation. Dean took no time in slicing the demon's neck and getting Jimmy's daughter away from him.

The other demon turned towards Dean, and Sam managed to hold her with his telekinesis. But it made his head feel like he was getting a lobotomy.

"Go," Sam managed to shout to Jimmy, "Get 'em out of here."

Once the family was out of the house, Sam's strength waned. He was going to pass out if he kept trying to hold the demon. He dropped his hand and gasped, pain slicing through his brain.

The demon sauntered over and said, "Can't get it up, can you, Sam?"

Dean came up behind her with a knife and said, "No, but I can."

The demon quickly smoked out. Damn it.

The room was spinning so much, Sam couldn't bare to move.

"C'mon, c'mon," Dean said, urging Sam towards the door. Somehow, Sam found the strength to keep going. He followed Dean outside.

Once inside the Impala, it was all Sam could do not to fall asleep. He needed to collect himself and regroup. God, his head. He thought about calling out for the Trickster, but he stopped himself. They were with Cas' vessel. There were too many angels. Plus, Dean probably still wanted to kill him. Just because Sam was in pain didn't mean he should put his friend in danger.

Sam managed to keep conscious until the Impala came to a stop. God, he just wanted to sleep. With Claire and Amelia cuddled up in the car, Dean felt it was a good time to discuss plans with Jimmy. Sam just wanted to fucking die, but Dean wanted to talk turkey. Fine. Sam willed himself out of the car.

Jimmy said immediately, "You were right."

"Sorry we were," Dean said.

"But I'm telling you, I don't know anything," Jimmy said.

Sam had struggle not to roll his eyes. If they could not have the same damn conversation while his head was imploding, that would be great.

Dean said, "I don't think they're inclined to believe you."

"Even if they were," Sam said, "You're a vessel. They're still gonna want to know what makes you tick."

"Which means vivisection," Dean said, "If they're feeling generous."

"I'm gonna tell you once again," Sam said, hoping to hammer the point home so they could stop talking about it, "You're putting your family in danger. You have to come with us."

Jimmy looked at his family in the car. "How long?" he asked.

Sam looked away. He was too tired for this shit.

"And don't give me that 'cross that bridge when we get to it' crap," Jimmy said.

Sam shook his head and snapped, "Don't you get it? Forever. The demons will never stop. You can never be with your family. So, you either get as far away from them as possible, or you put a bullet in your head, and that's how you keep your family safe, but there's no getting out, and there's no going home."

"Well, don't sugarcoat it, Sam," Dean said, giving him a sideways glance.

"I'm just telling him the truth, Dean," Sam said angrily, "Someone has to."

Jimmy looked a little lost for a moment. Sam was just about to storm off and find somewhere in an alley to take a damn nap.

Dean gave Sam a look as Jimmy said, "Okay, I have to think of them, and I need to go with you guys. I just-what about them? We can't just abandon them here."

Dean said, "You know what? You're right. You talk to them, tell your wife to take your kid to someone you trust who lives far away. Sam will find them a car."

Sam mustered his remaining energy to face Dean with a grade A bitchface.

Dean smacked him in the arm and nodded to Jimmy, saying, "And I'll be here if everything with the Mrs. goes south and you need backup."

Sam rolled his eyes and went off to hot wire a car. Honestly, the first car he found without an alarm system, he was more tempted to collapse in than mess with the wiring. He needed blood bad.

"Okay, so, uh, here's your car," Sam said, getting the engine to turn over on a car near the Impala.

Amelia nodded absently.

Sam was done. He was tired. He was done. Sam and Dean got in the Impala and waited for Jimmy.

Within a couple of minutes, they took off leaving Jimmy's family in the dust.

Sam was pretty sure he could safely sleep now. Dean was driving. Jimmy was out cold. Part of him was afraid to sleep, though. He was tired, tired in the worst way, but he was worried that the Trickster might be in his dreams. Whether it was really the demigod or not, their conversation wasn't something he was ready to continue. But he needed to sleep. He couldn't keep going like this. He'd have to figure out how to respond to the Trickster's words at some point anyway.

Sam was just about to close his eyes when Dean asked, "What the hell happened back there?" This wasn't exactly a conversation Sam wanted to have either.

"What?" Sam asked.

"You practically fainted trying to gank a demon," Dean said, looking over at Sam.

Sam rolled his exhausted eyes and said, "Okay, I didn't faint. I got a little dizzy."

"Well, you can call it whatever you want. Point is, you used to be strong enough to kill Alastair. Now, you can't even kill stunt demon number three?" Dean pressed.

Sam asked, "What do you want me to say about it, Dean?"

"For starters, what's going on with your mojo? I mean, it's yo-yoing all over the place," Dean said, "Now, I'm not trying to pick a fight here, okay? I just-you're scaring me, man."

Sam stared out the window. He couldn't keep his thoughts straight, his head was exploding, he was honestly too tired to notice if he had the shakes or not, and Dean was the one who was scared?

"I'm scaring myself," Sam said tiredly.

Dean looked away from him when a cell phone started ringing. Was it Sam's? Sam looked at his pocket for the answers. It was his phone. Huh.

"Hello?" Sam said.

"I need to talk to Jimmy," a voice said on the other end of the line.

"Who is this?" Sam asked.

"It's Amelia. I need to talk to Jimmy. It's about Claire."

Sam reached back and shoved Jimmy to wake him up. "Hey," he said, handing the phone to a half-asleep Jimmy, "It's your wife."

Sam blinked a few times as his vision blurred. He'd really wanted that phone call to be Ruby.

"Amelia?" Jimmy said into the phone, "Oh, my God." He stayed silent for a few minutes and said, "Okay, I'll be there." He hung up the phone and handed it to Sam.

"My wife is a demon," Jimmy said quietly.

"What?" Dean asked, alarmed.

"She has a demon in her," Jimmy said, "And it has Claire. She told me to meet her and to come alone."

Sam looked at Dean and saw the look of determination in his eyes. Fuck.

A nap. A goddamn nap. That's all Sam wanted was a freaking nap.

"What's the address?" Dean asked.

"It's a warehouse back by my home," Jimmy said, "I can give directions, but I don't know the exact address."

"Okay," Dean said. He pulled the car in a sharp turn and drove through the grass meridian of the highway, getting back onto the road headed back towards Pontiac. Sam's everything lurched with the sharp turn, but he swallowed the pain. He couldn't show Dean how bad it was. He just couldn't.

With Dean breaking land speed records, they got to the warehouse in no time. Jimmy seemed agitated, and Dean was trying to tell him how this all would go down. Sam felt like he said words, too, but he couldn't be sure. Jimmy walked off at some point, and Sam was pretty sure he expressed some concern about this being a trap. His head was such a mess, he couldn't quite tell. But when Dean replied with, "Yeah, I know. That's why I have a plan," Sam was much more sure that he'd said something about this being a trap.

Within seconds of entering the back of the building, Sam and Dean were grabbed by demons. Sam was truly blown away by Dean's brilliant plan. Still, the close contact with the demons was promising. Sam wished he could get a sharp object into one of the demon's necks. Then, he'd be fine. Then, he'd feel okay.

The demons hauled Sam and Dean into a room with Jimmy, Claire, and the demon wearing Amelia. They were fucked. Sam was almost too out of it to care. He wasn't too out of it to sass Dean, though.

"Nice plan, Dean," Sam said.

Dean replied, "Yeah, well, nobody bats a thousand."

"Got the knife?" the demon in Jimmy's wife asked.

The demon holding Sam held it up with a grin. Then, Not Amelia started fucking monologuing. Sam could barely pay attention. Dean was playing along, but Sam just kept wondering how fast he'd have to move to stab the demon behind him with the knife she was holding. Sam really wanted to move this along. If they were going to kill them, he kind of wanted to get on with it.

"Yeah, well, you got us, okay?" Sam said, "Let these people go."

"Oh, Sam," the demon said, "It's easy to act chivalrous when your Wonder Girl powers aren't working, huh?"

Sam didn't say anything. He just stared at the demon.

"Now for the punch line," the demon said, "Everybody dies." She aimed a gun at Sam. He braced himself for more pain.

But the demon turned around and shot Jimmy in the stomach.

Dean looked at Jimmy doubled over with wide eyes.

"Waste little orphan Annie," Not Amelia said.

Sam looked over to where Claire was seemingly unconscious and tied up to a chair. He pulled against the demon holding him. He didn't care how tired or hurt or in pain he was, he wasn't about to let a little girl die in front of him.

One of the demons swung a large lead pipe at Claire's head, but the little girl caught it effortlessly and pressed a glowing palm to the demon's forehead, burning the demon out of him with angelic skill.

Sam took advantage of his captor's momentary shock and grabbed for Ruby's knife. The demon fought back, but Sam gave it all he had to get that damn knife. The demon pushed Sam to the ground, but Sam rolled them over and used what little energy he had left. Slowly, he wrested the blade from the demon's hand and looked at the demon's throat. Where best to slice?

He didn't hear Dean wrestling with another demon. He didn't hear the sounds of more demons being burnt out by angel grace. He heard the blood flowing in the veins of the demon beneath him. And it was his.

He made a cut and stared at the blood for a moment. Dean would know how he did the things that he'd done. But he didn't care. This would fix everything. Sam pressed his lips to the demon's bleeding throat and drank. Instantly, his head felt better, he stopped shaking, he had clear focus. And he drank more.

He could feel the blood on his face when he released the demon and looked up. When he turned around, Dean and Claire stared at him with fear, shock, and disappointment. Sam recognized the look on Claire's face as the expression Castiel always greeted him with. The look that said that Sam was an abomination. That Sam was the boy with the demon blood in his veins.

Quickly, Sam turned back to the demon and plunged Ruby's knife into its chest. Sam stood up and turned towards Dean. He could feel the demon behind him.

Sam reached out his hand and tried not to feel his heart break when Dean flinched. He grabbed hold of the demon inside of Amelia and pulled. There'd be no escaping him this time. Sam could feel the demon blood surging through his veins, strengthening him, making him unstoppable. A few coughs of black smoke and Sam ripped the demon out from Amelia, forcing it to burn to cinders on the ground. Dean went to Amelia's side to make sure she was alright while facing Sam with confusion and fear. Why couldn't Dean see that this was a good thing? Sam knew the blood was messed up, but it was a means to an end, and he'd say not letting the apocalypse happen was a very good end.

Dean helped Amelia up, and Sam followed them as they walked over to where Claire was kneeling by Jimmy. "I want to make sure you understand," she was saying, "You won't die or age. If this last year was painful for you, picture a hundred, a thousand more like it."

"It doesn't matter," Jimmy said with jagged breaths, "You take me. Just take me."

"As you wish," Claire said.

She touched Jimmy's cheek and began to glow. The bright white of Castiel's true form shone from Jimmy's eyes. Sam and Dean looked away.

When the light faded, Castiel stood up, walking away from Claire and past Amelia as she ran for her daughter.

He started to walk away when Dean said, "Cas, hold up. What were you going to tell me?"

Castiel turned towards Dean with a look that sent chills through Sam. Cas normally looked at Dean with adoration and interest, sometimes affection. Now, he looked at Dean the way someone would look at a worm.

"I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean," Cas said, "I serve Heaven, I don't serve man. And I certainly don't serve you."

Sam looked between Dean and Cas warily. Something really bad must have happened in Heaven for Cas to act like that. Dean looked like he'd been punched in the gut as Castiel walked away.

Amelia took the stolen car to take Claire far away as had been the original plan. Sam and Dean got in the Impala, and Sam waited to be chewed out. Dean had seen the blood. Sam had no way of denying that. He felt like a teenager who'd gotten caught smoking. But Dean didn't say anything.

A few miles down the road, the silence in the car got to be too much.

"Alright, let's hear it," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Drop the bomb, man," Sam said, "You saw what I did. Come on. Stop the car. Take a swing."

"I'm not gonna take a swing," Dean said.

"Then, scream. Chew me out."

"I'm not mad, Sam."

"Oh, come on. You're not mad?"

"No."

"Right, look, at least let me explain myself."

"Don't," Dean said, "I don't care."

Sam almost did a double take. "You don't care?" he asked.

"What do you want me to say?" Dean asked, "That I'm disappointed? Yeah, I am. But mostly, I'm just tired, man."

Sam looked away from his brother.

"And I'm done," Dean said, "I am just done."

Honestly, that was much worse than Dean being angry. Sam was angry. He wanted to yell and scream and duke it out. He wanted his brother to listen to him for once, trust him for once.

His phone rang before he could do or say anything, though.

"Hey, Bobby," Sam answered.

Bobby said, "Hey, you and your brother better shag ass to my place asap."

"What's going on?" Sam asked, instantly concerned.

All he got in return was Bobby's snark, "The apocalypse, genius. Now, get your asses over here."

Bobby hung up, and Sam looked at his phone in exasperation.

"What'd he say?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed and said, "He wants us over at his place."

"Okay, then. We were headed that way anyway," Dean said.

Sam looked at his brother and said, "Dean, listen, about what happened-"

"I said I don't want to know, Sam," Dean said. He turned on the radio to stop Sam from talking. Sam tried his best not to pout, but he really hated being silenced by the radio.

After an hour or so, the road lulled Sam to sleep. No Trickster visited his dreams, no grassy plains or beaches. All he could see was the fear in Dean's eyes when his brother looked at him. Somehow, Sam managed to sleep almost the entire trip only to find that his brother still had no interest in talking even after so many hours. Hopefully, whatever Bobby had to show them would give them something to focus on other than the demon blood and the unsaid words between them.

Once they got to Bobby's, Bobby led them down to his panic room saying something about a problem with demons and the end of the world. "Well, thanks for shaking a tail," he said gruffly, "Glad you got here."

Sam opened the door to the panic room, and Bobby said, "Now, go on inside. I want to show you something."

"Alright," Sam said, "So, uh, what's the big demon problem?" He turned towards Bobby and Dean, waiting for them to come inside.

"You are," Bobby said, "This is for your own good."

Dean and Bobby shut the door, locking Sam inside.

Sam stared at the door in shock. They were actually locking him in here?

"Guys?" Sam asked, walking up to the door to look through the bars at his family. "Hey, guys!" Sam tried. This was not cool. They couldn't be serious.

Bobby closed the metal latch that blocked Sam from seeing out the door.

"This isn't funny!" Sam shouted, "Guys! Hey!" He banged on the door, but it was starting to be clear they weren't letting him out.

Dean and Bobby locked him in the damn panic room. What the hell. Ruby probably wouldn't answer her fucking phone. He was screwed. He sat on the cot in the middle of the room thought about his options.

Of course they locked him in the panic room. The ceiling was too high to kick out the fan and get out that way. There were no other doors. There was no way in, and there was definitely no way out. Even if he could get a hold of Ruby, the whole room was demon proof. She wouldn't be able to do anything anyway.

But he did have a friend who wasn't a demon.

Sam closed his eyes. What had the Trickster said? Calling him was like praying? Well, he'd give it a shot.

Sam laced his fingers together and said, "Trickster, I don't really know how this works or if you can hear me, but I really need your help." He opened his eyes and waited. Nothing. No demigod came to rescue him. Sam got up and paced. Several minutes of waiting and still nothing.

Was no one on his side anymore?

Sam slammed his fist into the panic room door with a loud yell. They couldn't just leave him locked in there.

But they did. And no matter how hard he screamed and prayed and begged, no one came.


	9. When the Levee Breaks

Gabriel pressed his forehead against the cold iron of the panic room door. Why did Sam have to call him now? Why now? Gabriel couldn't help him with this. As much as he hated to admit it, Dean and Bobby had made the right call. Sam prayed and prayed to him for help, but he couldn't go to him. The demon blood needed to work itself out of his system. But he wouldn't leave him alone with all this either. It was dangerous, it was reckless, it was too close to being within the angels' radar, but Gabriel couldn't let Sam do this by himself. But he couldn't help him. The amount of grace it would take to clean Sam's system would practically be a beacon for Heaven to drag him back. The last thing the Winchesters needed was yet another archangel against them. He couldn't get caught. He couldn't risk that. Sure, he was thinking of himself, but he knew what Heaven was capable of. The last thing he wanted, the worst thing Gabriel could ever imagine, was to be the one who handed Sam Winchester his sad fate on a silver platter. He would not be a weapon for Heaven to use. And so, Gabriel stood outside the panic room, leaning against the door and listening to the best human who ever existed shout himself hoarse and beg to be released.

Eventually, Dean came and opened the viewing slot in the door. Gabriel stepped away from the door, though he didn't have to. It wasn't like Dean would be able to see or feel him either way.

Sam peered through the bars at Dean and said, "Okay, let me out. This is not funny."

"Damn straight," Dean said.

"Dean, come on. This is crazy."

"No," Dean said, "Not until you dry out."

Sam sighed and said, "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied to you. Just...open the door."

"You don't have to apologize," Dean said evenly, "It's not your fault. It's not your fault that you lied to me over and over again. I get it now, you couldn't help it."

"I'm not some junkie," Sam snapped.

Gabriel looked at the tired circles around Sam's eyes. He could feel the amount of darkness pumping through the kid's veins. He really wished he could agree with Sam.

"Really?" Dean seethed, "I guess I've just imagined how strung out you've been lately."

Sam walked away from the door with a disbelieving laugh, "You're actually trying to twist this into some kind of ridiculous drug intervention?"

"If it smells like a duck."

"Dean, I'm not drinking the demon blood for kicks, I'm getting strong enough to kill Lilith," Sam said.

Gabriel shook his head. He was getting strong enough to kill Lilith. And that right there was the problem.

"Strong?" Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"This is about as far away from strong as you can get. Try weak. Try desperate, pathetic."

Well, that was a bit harsh. Gabriel tried his best to stay out of Sam's head, but he knew that those words had to hurt.

"Killing Lilith is what matters," Sam said, "Or are you so busy being self-righteous you forgot about her?"

"Oh, Lilith's gonna die. Bobby and I will kill her. But not with you," Dean said.

Sam said, alarmed, "You're not serious."

"Congrats, Sammy," Dean said, "You just bought yourself a bench-warmer seat to the apocalypse."

Dean closed the viewing slot and headed up the stairs.

"Dean, look-come back here!" Sam shouted. He slammed his fist against the door angrily. "Dean!" he yelled, "Let me outta here. Dean, let me outta here! Let me out! Dean!"

Sam didn't see the hunch in Dean's shoulders. He didn't see how much of a front his brother was putting up. He didn't see the pain that saying those things had caused for Dean. But Gabriel did. And damned if he hadn't seen that before. It was the same weighted walk, the same strong facade that Michael had used with Lucifer when reasoning with him had become impossible. The end of everything seemed to be coming much too quickly.

It made Gabriel all the more reluctant to interfere. There were so many ways for the world to end due to this moment. If Gabriel let Sam out, he'd kill Lilith and there'd be no stopping him. If he cleansed Sam of the demon blood, Heaven would sense it, and there would be no hiding from the will of his brothers. And Sam would still kill Lilith with Heaven's help. He could do nothing but watch if the world had half a chance of dodging this bullet for at least a while longer.

Sam dropped out of sight as he sat on the cot. Gabriel was never more glad for the Winchesters' lack of knowledge of angels when he was easily able to enter the panic room without any booby traps or death befalling him. He remained invisible and watched Sam.

He wanted to talk to Sam, to give him some small comfort, but if he showed himself, Sam would want Gabriel to get him out of there. Dean was right to lock Sam up as much as it hurt Gabriel to admit it. He stayed invisible.

Which is why it was so startling when Sam looked right at him. He blinked his eyes a bunch, and Gabriel didn't need to be inside Sam's head to know how the room was probably spinning, but Sam Winchester looked right the fuck at him.

Sam got up off the cot and walked towards where Gabriel stood. He had a determination in his eyes that had the archangel backing up against the wall. He was actually invisible, right? Sam walked past Gabriel following the curve of the wall to the door where he tried to wrench the door open. Not that it worked. Gabriel still gave the moose some points for trying.

Sam turned away from the door, frustrated, when he stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth came open like he was gasping, but nothing came out. Gabriel stepped closer, worried. Sam's eyes darted around momentarily before staring at the hanging light fixture with clear fear and adrenaline on his face. What the hell?

"Guys!" Sam shouted, slowly turning around, "Something's comi-" He stared at a spot just in front of the door like Lucifer himself was standing there. Gabriel desperately wanted to know what the hell was going on, but he couldn't bring himself to become visible. It was too big of a risk.

Sam's breathing became rapid and scared, his mouth searching for words that his brain couldn't seem to find. He slowly backed up away from the door, eyes wide. Abruptly, he fell back on the cot in the center of the room and started struggling against air. Like there were restraints Gabriel couldn't see. Gabriel started to relax. Of course the kid was hallucinating. He'd had so much demon blood in his system, not having hallucinations would've been more concerning. Gabriel sat down in the corner, glad that there wasn't anything to be more worried about.

"Don't, don't, don't," Sam muttered in a scared plea. He squeezed his eyes shut in a manner that quickly grabbed Gabriel's attention.

And that's when the screaming started.

Sam shrieked in pain, and Gabriel was on his feet and next to Sam in a second. There wasn't anything physically wrong with him. He was fine. But the expression on the man's face said that he clearly wasn't.

Sam kept screaming until he gasped, "Stop! Alastair! Please!"

Oh, fuck.

Gabriel turned himself visible with a snap of his fingers and put his hands on Sam's face. "Sam!" he shouted, "Snap out of it, kiddo."

For a moment, Sam's screams stopped, and Gabriel really hoped it was over. The way Sam's eyes darted towards where Alastair definitely wasn't made his hopes count for jack, but Gabriel couldn't clean Sam of the blood. It would be too much grace. Heaven would have a freaking beacon for him.

Then, Sam started screaming again.

"Sam," Gabriel pleaded, "C'mon. Look at me. It's not real. You're safe."

"Please," Sam gasped, "Please, please." The rest of his words were cut off with another shriek.

Gabriel climbed on top of Sam on the cot and took hold of the man's shirt. "Sam! Look at me, please! You're okay. Nothing's happening!" he said.

Sam writhed beneath the archangel and let out another gut wrenching wail. Gabriel couldn't take it anymore. If he couldn't cleanse Sam's body of the demon blood, he would at least know what the fuck was going on in that kid's head.

With the tiniest spark of grace, Gabriel tapped into Sam's head to see what he was dealing with.

Alastair stood next to the cot brandishing a scalpel. A wicked grin spread across his face as he dug the blade into Sam's side, ripping viciously. The fact that Sam wasn't screaming more was astounding.

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and Alastair disappeared. "It's okay, Sammy," he said, "I've got you."

Sam gasped and looked to the side as he came out of it. He ran his hands across his stomach, realizing that he was in one piece, but he never looked at Gabriel. Well, that was a hell of a thank you.

Sam sat up and looked around. Gabriel watched Sam cautiously. Something was up.

A small voice said, "The answer's yes. You're hallucinating."

Sam and Gabriel both looked at the source of the voice. Sam's face betrayed his shock, but Gabriel was kind of confused. Who was this kid? Why did he freak out Sam so much?

"That's right," the kid said, "It's me. Or I mean, it's you."

And what the hell was that supposed to mean?

Sam said, "I'm losing my mind."

"Definitely," the kid said.

"Sam, who is this?" Gabriel asked, starting to have the sinking feeling that he already knew the answer. But Sam didn't reply. He probably couldn't even see Gabriel anyway, stupid demon blood.

"What do you want?" Sam asked the kid.

"An explanation," the kid said with a familiar indignation, "How could you do this to me? I thought we were gonna be normal."

"I tried. I did," Sam said, "It didn't pan out that way. Sorry, kid."

"Sorry, kid?" young Sam said angrily, "That's what you have to say? It's all we ever wanted! We were so close! You-you got away from Dad, you quit hunting, you were gonna become a lawyer and get married. Why'd you blow it?"

Gabriel looked at Sam. There were memories in Sam's head that he'd always wanted to see that Sam never allowed him access to. There were things that he'd say that would cause Sam to flinch and bar Gabriel from his mind. There were things that Gabriel knew he couldn't ever know about Sam Winchester. But Sammy wanted to be a lawyer? He'd gone to college? He was going to get fucking married? Sam had told Gabriel all about his dad and how he had quit hunting only to get dragged back in by Dean. He'd told Gabriel a hell of a lot, but those things? They were all under this big label of DO NOT ASK. Damn his curiosity, but Gabriel let this bizarre form of self harm continue if only to gain more insight into Sam.

Sam quickly snapped at his younger self. "Look," he said, "They killed Jessica."

"Yeah," little Sam snapped back, "And if you hadn't run off with Dean, if you'd been there to protect her, she'd still be alive."

Gabriel stared at Sam, expecting a quick retort for such a low blow.

But all Sam managed was a strangled, "I know."

Gabriel had never heard the name Jessica from Sam before, but after that, he knew he never would. And he promised to himself that he would never mention her to Sam as long as he lived.

"Think Jess would want you to turn into this? She loved you," little Sam pressed, "You think she would be happy you using her as an excuse?"

"I'm sorry, I am," Sam said, nothing but anger and sadness in his voice, "But life doesn't turn out the way you thought it would when you were fourteen years old. We were never going to be normal. We were never gonna get away. Grow up."

Gabriel was just about to end this seriously fucked up self-abuse when little Sam said, "Maybe you're right."

The kid vanished from one side of the room to the other. "Maybe there's...no escape," he said, "After all...how can you run from what's inside you?"

Young Sam's eyes flashed yellow, yellow like Azazel's eyes had been.

Gabriel growled and swiped a hand through the child, making him disappear. Sam looked around and for the first time since this whole thing started, looked at Gabriel and actually saw him.

"Trickster...?" Sam said confused, staring around.

"I'm here, kiddo," Gabriel said.

Sam looked at him with wide eyes, "Am I-"

"Hallucinating?" Gabriel asked, "No. Well, you have been hallucinating some doozies, let me tell ya, but I am physically here right now and definitely am not a hallucination."

Sam stood up and hugged Gabriel tightly, nearly lifting the archangel off the ground.

"I'm so glad you're here," Sam said.

Gabriel would've been lying if those words didn't give him the warm fuzzies. But it didn't last long.

"Let's get out of here," Sam said.

"Uh, kiddo-"

"And I gotta get a hold of Ruby. My head kills."

"Samsquatch, I don't-"

"God, I'm so glad you're still on my side."

"Sam," Gabriel said firmly, grabbing Sam's attention, "I can't get you out of here."

"What?" Sam asked, "You're the Trickster. Of course you can."

"Okay, you may have a point there, but I'm not going to enable your great escape. You need to stay here," Gabriel said.

"What?" Sam asked in disbelief.

Gabriel sighed and asked, "Has it occurred to you that Dean might be right?"

Sam broke away from Gabriel and crossed the panic room. "Not you, too," he said.

"I've told you from day one the demon was bad news. Doesn't it mean something if everyone who loves you thinks this is the right thing to do?" Gabriel asked.

Sam said, "Yeah, it means everyone I love doesn't listen to a damn thing I say. Why did you even come if you were just gonna leave me here?"

Gabriel took a step towards Sam. "I came as soon as you called," he said, "And no one said a damn thing about me leaving."

"You've been here this whole time?" Sam asked, "How much did you see?"

"Enough to see Alastair and Mini Moose."

"And you didn't even do anything?" Sam asked, incredulous.

"Didn't do anything? Sam, I stopped both of those hallucinations. I would never-"

"Then, why won't you help me?"

"I am helping you. The demon blood is dangerous and-"

"I know what I'm doing," Sam snapped.

"No, Sam, you don't," Gabriel said. Sam turned away from Gabriel and said, "Just leave."

"I'm not gonna leave you."

"Stay the hell away from me, Trickster. I am sick and tired of everyone treating me like a fucking child. First, Dean and Bobby, now you. I'm done. Leave me alone," Sam snapped.

Gabriel turned himself invisible without a second thought.

Sam blinked at Gabriel's sudden departure. For a moment, Gabriel thought he saw a flicker of sadness across Sam's face, but honestly, he might've been projecting. As Gabriel took his spot on the floor by the wall again, he tried to remind himself that it was the demon blood talking. That Sam would see reason. But Father, if Gabriel didn't know what Lilith's death would bring about, he'd be inclined to side with Sam. Sam really was doing what he thought was right. Unfortunately, it wasn't the road to Heaven that was paved with good intentions.

Sam paced for a moment unsteadily that made Gabriel concerned that he was going to have to catch him to stop him from cracking his head on the concrete. Luckily, Sam took a seat, sitting crossed legged on the cold, cement floor. He hung his head, and Gabriel fought the urge to hug him. Sweat beaded across Sam's forehead. The demon blood was not being nice to him at all. The poor guy looked up at the ceiling so tiredly that it was painfully clear how bad the fever was getting.

Gabriel could clean him up with a snap of his fingers. He wanted nothing more than to do just that. But he couldn't. So, he sat against the wall, hugging his invisible arms around himself. All he could do was watch.

Sam's head hung back down. He was feeling hot. Gabriel knew it wasn't hot in the room, but in Sam's head, the heat was stifling. Sam looked around, parched, and Gabriel hated himself for letting Sam do this to himself. It hadn't been Gabriel's intention. He just wanted to stay out of it. And he couldn't tell him about Lilith, so the cards just had to fall where they would.

But watching Sam like this. It was torture. It was worse than the Mystery Spot. And honestly, he didn't know how long he'd be able to go without cleaning Sam of the blood and running as long and as hard as he could.

Sam saw a pitcher of water behind him. The amount of energy it took the guy to turn around was painful to watch. Sam collapsed against the cot in feverish pain. Gabriel tried everything he could to harden his heart, but this was just the worst. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to forget where they were and what he'd allowed to happen.

That's when they heard it. Or rather, Sam heard it, and Gabriel heard it through his connection to Sam's brain. Another hallucination to be sure, but the voice was still startling.

"Poor baby," Mary Winchester said softly.

Sam looked up from the cot in shock, recognizing the voice. He looked around and shakily stood. "M-mom," he said.

"Sam," Mary replied. Gabriel was taken aback by how stunning she looked and also deeply unnerved that the version of Mary in Sam's mind still had the bloodstain across her nightgown from the night she died.

"You look just awful," Mary said, her smile fading as she addressed Sam.

Gabriel stood up, watching Mary warily. He wasn't going to allow the hallucination to do any damage to Sam, but maybe some tough mom love was what Sam needed to hear.

Sam gave a small, bitter laugh. "Let's hear it," he said, "Go ahead."

"What do you mean?" Mary asked.

Sam said, "You're disappointed. You never thought I'd turn out this way. I'm a piss poor excuse for a son. Your heart is broken. Am I close?"

"Not at all," Mary said, "You're doing the right thing, Sam. What you're doing is brave. You're not being crazy, you're being practical. Sam, I'm so proud of you."

Gabriel wasn't sure how he felt about this, because it was definitely not what Sam needed to hear. On the other hand, Gabriel hadn't seen Sam look this relieved in quite a while, so he let the hallucination play out if only to see Sam feeling a little better.

"But-but, Dean-" Sam stammered.

"Your brother doesn't understand," Mary said.

Sam gave his mother a confused look.

"I was raised a hunter from a long line," Mary said, "We understand that there are gonna be hard choices. We do what we have to to get the job done. Yes, our family is cursed. But you, you have the power to turn it into a gift. You can use it against them."

Gabriel really didn't like any of this. She must've been created by the part of Sam that felt he was doing the right thing. He really didn't need any encouragement on that front, but he seemed much less upset. As long as Sam stayed locked up, Gabriel didn't see any harm in letting him continue spending time with his mother.

"For revenge?" Sam asked.

"No, for justice," his mom replied. She said softly, "I know how scared you are."

Sam said, "What's...in me. Mom, it's-"

"Evil," she said, "And you know it."

"What if it's stronger than me? I mean, what if Dean's right?" Sam asked.

Gabriel was honestly glad that that question even had a chance in Sam's head. Good to know he had some doubts.

"Dean can never know how strong you are," Mary said, stroking Sam's hair back, "Because Dean is weak."

Well, that wasn't something Gabriel ever saw coming. Where was she going with this?

She said, "Look at what he's done to you. Locking you in here? He's terrified. He's in over his head. You have to go on without him."

Sam gave her a very uncertain look.

"You have what it takes," Mary said, insistant, "You have to kill Lilith."

"Even if it kills me," Sam said. It wasn't a question. It wasn't Sam asking for his mother's approval. He said it like it was a simple fact. Gabriel did not like that at all.

Mary said in a near whisper, "Make my death mean something. I'm counting on you, Sam. Don't let anyone or anything get in your way. Not even Dean."

And that was enough of that.

Mary hugged Sam and kissed his cheek, which made Gabriel falter for a moment. It was startling how touch starved the kid was. Still, no more toxic hallucination talk.

Mary released Sam, Gabriel snapped his fingers, and Mary was gone, leaving Sam seemingly alone in the panic room. Sam blinked his eyes, realizing his mother had been a figment of his imagination. Still, Gabriel worried that her words might've sunk in a little too well.

Gabriel sat next to Sam on the cot, not allowing himself to be seen and wondered how long this would all take.

He felt it. He felt it like a jolt of electricity. Castiel. Castiel was upstairs in the junkyard.

Gabriel needed to leave. He needed to hide. Angels were dangerous. Heaven was dangerous. But he couldn't leave Sam. Not like this. Not with these insane hallucinations and raging fever. But he definitely couldn't stay. Not with an angel so nearby. He could feel Castiel talking to Dean, but he could also feel Castiel reaching out with his grace, sensing, scanning. Castiel turned towards the house. Shit.

Gabriel dropped his invisibility, making Sam jump. All he wanted to do was stop using any and all grace so his little brother wouldn't find him, not scare the poor kid going through demon withdrawal.

"Shh," Gabriel said softly, "I come in peace. I'm just trying to keep under Castiel's radar."

"Cas is here?" Sam asked, "Wait, why are you back?"

"I never left," Gabriel said absently. He felt Castiel turn back towards Dean. Gabriel let out a sigh of relief.

Sam shifted away from Gabriel, stiffly.

"What, do I smell?" Gabriel asked, "C'mon, Sam. You're breaking my heart here. I'm just trying to help you."

Sam didn't say anything, he just got up and sat by the back wall.

"Sam, please. Just look at me. We're okay, right? Still friends?" Gabriel tried.

"Last I checked, friends didn't let friends stay locked in a prison cell," Sam snapped.

Gabriel sighed and said, "When it's for their own good they do."

Gabriel felt Castiel leave and instantly felt much more relaxed. He asked, "Do you want me to stay or go, kiddo?"

Sam didn't respond or even look at him. Well, there was an answer right there.

Gabriel snapped his fingers and resumed watching Sam invisibly. Which seemed like a good idea for all of six seconds.

Sam looked down at his hands, scared. What the hell? Gabriel stepped closer to see what was going on. Before he could get a glimpse, Sam shot to his feet and ran to the mirror, breathing heavily.

Traces of black veins erupted across Sam's face, and damn if it didn't look painful.

Gabriel snapped his fingers to stop the hallucination but nothing happened.

"Guys!" Sam shouted, "Help!"

Gabriel turned visible and snapped his fingers again. Nothing. It was definitely a hallucination, but it wasn't reacting to Gabriel's grace.

Sam cried out in pain and balled up on the floor.

"Sam!" Gabriel shouted, rushing over to him.

Sam was barely able to crack an eye open to look at him.

Gabriel said, "It's okay, Sam. I'm gonna figure this out. You're gonna be okay."

Sam screamed again as his limbs went rigid, black veins running through him. He started convulsing, eyes rolling back in his head.

"No, no, no," Gabriel said, trying to hold Sam's shoulders still, "Come on, Sam. Fight this. Look at me, Sam. Come on. Come back to me."

Sam fell completely limp under Gabriel's hands.

"Sam?" Gabriel tried.

Gabriel scooped the unconscious Sam into his arms and brushed the hair out of his face.

"Come on, Sam. Don't do this. You're the most stubborn person I know. You're gonna let a hallucination take you out?" Gabriel said, trying not to let his voice shake.

He almost called out for Dean and Bobby, but what the hell could they do that an archangel couldn't?

Gabriel could clean him. He could get all of this shit out of Sam's veins with a single thought. The level of grace just to end this particular acid trip would be enough to get him hauled back through the pearly gates. Cleansing Sam entirely would be like handing himself over to Heaven. Seeing Sam like this, Gabriel had never been more willing to go home and be the weapon they had always wanted him to be. If it meant saving Sam...

Gabriel heard Dean and Bobby come down the basement stairs. He turned himself invisible with a snap of his fingers as he felt tears prick at his eyes. Sam had to be okay. He never would be okay. He was Lucifer's vessel. But damn it, Gabriel really needed him to be okay.

Gabriel released Sam, and Sam started writhing again. He supposed more of that was better than unconscious non-responsiveness, but it still hurt Gabriel in the worst way.

Dean opened the peep hatch in the door and looked at Sam on the ground in front of the cot. "What if he's faking?" he asked.

"You really think he would?" Bobby asked.

Dean said, "I think he'd do anything."

Just then, Sam flew from the ground and slammed against the wall. And no safe amount of grace could stop it. Gabriel sank to the ground and hoped his tears were as invisible as the rest of him. He was an archangel for crying out loud! How could he be so useless?

Sam slammed around the panic room several more times and all Gabriel could do was watch. How could he have let this happen?

"That ain't fakin'," Bobby said. The men rushed in and grabbed Sam off the wall.

Sam kept fighting until he started convulsing on the ground again.

Bobby moved fast, taking off his belt and shoving it into Sam's mouth to keep him from biting off his tongue.

"We're gonna have to tie him down for his own safety," Bobby said.

Gabriel barely registered the words. He just watched as the only human he ever cared about had a supernatural seizure in front of him.

"Dean?" Bobby said. Dean didn't seem to be taking this scene much better than Gabriel, but Gabriel hardly noticed.

"Dean, you with me?" Bobby said sharply.

Sam fought against the belt as his eyes rolled back in his head. Gabriel felt like he was coming apart at the seams. He could stop this. He had the power. But using it would have such a high cost. And then Sam would be in an even worse predicament.

"Dean!" Bobby shouted, "Before he has another fit!"

"Yeah," Dean said, "Just get it over with."

They picked up Sam and wrestled him onto the cot. Gabriel could hardly bare to watch. He bit down against his fist so he wouldn't sob and give away his presence to the others.

"Hold him down while I get the restraints," Bobby said gruffly.

Dean hopped on top of Sam on the cot and pushed Sam's arms above his head, so he could hold Sam's arms and the belt at the same time. He trapped Sam's long legs with his own and looked down at his shaking brother.

Gabriel stepped closer, wanting so desperately to be able to help Sam, he didn't know what to do.

Dean said a quiet, "Damn it, Sammy," before a tear fell from his face onto Sam's heaving chest.

When Bobby came back with cuffs and chains, Sam had lost consciousness again.

Everything in Gabriel told him to run. It told him to run and never look back. Sam was doomed. He'd known that from the very beginning. He couldn't stop the end of the world. He couldn't stop Michael or Lucifer from doing what they were going to do. It all had to happen, and it was all happening right now. He was way too close to all of it. He wanted to run with everything he had.

But Gabriel stayed. He stayed after Dean walked upstairs, exhaustion and concern etched across his face. He stayed after Bobby followed, muttering prayers under his breath for his boy to pull through. He stayed until Sam woke up and felt the restraints holding his arms and legs to the cot.

Even then, Gabriel stayed. But only for a short while.

Sam hallucinated his brother. Gabriel knew it was a hallucination, because he could feel Dean talking to Bobby upstairs, but the hallucination seemed safe for the time being. If anything got too bad, Gabriel would be there to end it.

Dean told Sam about having to restrain him because of the demon blood. He talked to him about this crusade to kill Lilith. Honestly, Gabriel wasn't entirely surprised that the voice of reason in Sam's brain was Dean. He just hoped what this Dean said to Sam would work where real Dean's words hadn't.

Gabriel would've stayed there forever if he could, but he felt it. Castiel. Castiel was there under the basement stairs.

It was too close, far too close. Gabriel rested a hand on Sam's shoulder but had no idea if he felt it.

And he flew. He flew as fast and as far as he could manage with how heavy his heart felt for leaving Sam. It didn't take long to feel Sam's sadness and anger. Betrayal and grief and self-loathing bounced around in Gabriel's skull as he felt the things the hallucination of Dean was saying. But he couldn't do anything to stop it. And he couldn't return. Not with Castiel there.

So, he flew to a beach and wished that the waves would come further up the sand and drag him out into the endless blue.

Gabriel felt every word, every slicing sentence. He felt Sam say, "Don't you say that to me." He felt it all and could do nothing but drown in it.

And he stayed like that until he felt the snap. The snap of the handcuffs resonated in Gabriel's ears. It had been hours. How could Castiel do this?

Gabriel stood up and paced. Sam was out. Sam had been let out of the panic room. This was ten kinds of not good. Sam was going to leave. He was going to go after Lilith. But Gabriel couldn't go after him. If the angels had authorized his escape, the angels had to be watching him. Gabriel's brothers had to be watching him. If he hadn't put so much effort into protecting himself from Heaven, Gabriel would've flown to Castiel and wrung his little brother's little neck.

Gabriel knew Bobby had a gun on Sam, but what was he supposed to do? He was too dangerous to everyone to get involved. But he had to do something. He just hoped that Sam would be too weak to kill Lilith so that they'd have some more time.

Gabriel felt it when Sam met with Ruby in a hotel. And for the first time since the Mystery Spot, he stopped watching Sam. He couldn't watch this. He couldn't be in Sam's head for this. He could put up with a lot but watching him with that bitch was far past his limits. He retreated from Sam and stared out across the ocean, trying to ignore the vast emptiness and loneliness in his head.

The emptiness was really starting to be aggravating when angel radio picked up the slack. "Dean Winchester has been secured," they said. Gabriel sat up abruptly in the sand. The angels had Dean Winchester. Shit. Where was Sam? Gabriel reached out to find Sam. He was one big mass of pain and sadness. How hard could it be to find-Sam was standing over a demon wearing a nurse, torturing the demonic soul within the woman. What. The. Fuck. He'd turned his back for just a few hours. What the hell had happened?

Gabriel stopped watching Sam. It didn't change anything. It was too dangerous to go to Sam. Damned if he did something, damned if he didn't, the apocalypse was happening. Well, he wasn't going to get involved. Hell, no. Lucifer was coming back, and there was no way on God's green earth that he was going to get anywhere near him. Not even for Sam fucking Winchester.

Sam's heart shattered. Gabriel wasn't watching him, he wasn't listening, nothing. But he felt it. Sam's heart broke into a thousand pieces. That had Gabriel's attention.

But he was decided. He was not getting involved. Uh uh. Nope. Sam did this to himself. This was the angels' problem now. Gabriel was a Trickster, not an archangel. This didn't concern him.

But he watched as Sam drank an innocent woman dry outside of the convent where Lilith was waiting.

A surge of energy dragged Gabriel's attention away to the prophet's house. Chuck stood there with Castiel and Dean. "I'll hold them off," Castiel shouted to Dean over the roar of Raphael's true form, "I'll hold them all off." Dean and Castiel were trying to stop the angels? They were trying to stop the apocalypse? Those stupid, sorry, ignorant-

Castiel's essence was obliterated by Raphael's power.

Sam flung Lilith back with a wave of his hand.

Dean approached the catherdral door.

Ruby flung the door shut with a smirk.

Sam extended his hand towards Lilith, making her writhe against the altar.

Gabriel screamed from his spot on the beach. He couldn't fight this. It was God's plan unfolding. He couldn't-

Sam paused. Dean shouted. Ruby screamed at Sam.

Sam's eyes turned completely black.

Lilith hit the ground dead.

Gabriel jumped to his feet. He was going to go somewhere far away and get very drunk and have sex with as many people as he could possibly find and he was going to never think about Sam Winchester again for the rest of his stupid existence. He never wanted anything to do with this, and damn it if he didn't try everything in his power to keep it that way.

He was just about to fly to Singapore when he felt it. His grace thrummed from it. The cage was open. Ruby was dead. Dean was next to Sam. Sam was standing at the edge of Lucifer's cage. Sam and Dean grabbed each other's jackets as Gabriel's long lost brother burst forth into the world.

"I'm sorry," Sam said.

Dean said, "Sammy, let's go."

"He's coming," Sam said, staring at Lucifer's grace.

Gabriel flew to the cathedral at the highest speed that he'd ever achieved. He landed in the hallway as Sam and Dean ran for the door. The door slammed shut in front of them as pieces of Lucifer's grace bled through the wood in the door. Gabriel tried to blast the doors open but Lucifer was holding them shut tight. He was always the stronger brother. Damn it.

The power of Lucifer's grace reverberated through the church. What probably sounded like high-level screeching to the Winchesters sounded only like words to Gabriel. He froze.

"Brother," Lucifer whispered as his power washed over the other archangel.

Gabriel took a breath and snapped his fingers, sending Sam and Dean onto a plane passing overhead. He flew quickly, joining the brothers on the flight and leaving his own brother to finish exploding from his box.

Since the cat was out of the bag in nearly every way that counted, Gabriel snapped his fingers again from the back row and cleaned as much of the demon blood as he could from Sam's system. Just because he wasn't getting involved didn't mean he was going to make it easy for his brothers. He wasn't stopping his brothers from getting their vessels, he was just making it a little more challenging. He wasn't directly breaking Heaven's rules. Just bending them a little.

Gabriel hoped that Heaven was too preoccupied with Lucifer's arrival to notice his own little power display. He still fled the plane and flew to a small, deserted island off the coast of New Zealand.

When he landed, Gabriel didn't quite know how he felt. Lucifer was back, and that was a massive tangle of emotions in and of itself. He'd saved Sam and Dean against his better judgment. He had somehow managed to get Sam and Dean in two seats on a passing plane, and honestly, he didn't think his aim had been that good, so he was a little proud. At the same time, all he wanted to do was hide until the end came.

And it was coming. No matter if Gabriel still kept an eye on Sam or not, the end of everything was just around the corner.


	10. Free to Be You and Me

Sam tried his best to fall asleep, but it wasn't working. It just wasn't the same without Dean there. He was used to dirty motels, but without Dean's soft snoring, it just didn't feel like home. But he'd put himself into this exile. He drank the demon blood. He trusted a demon. He killed Lilith. He let Lucifer out of the box. Sam knew he couldn't be trusted, shouldn't be trusted. He broke the damn planet. He needed to be benched and he knew it. But that didn't help him sleep any easier.

Sam turned over, trying to find a comfortable position when he realized he wasn't alone in bed.

Jess.

Sam propped himself up quickly in shock.

"Hey, baby," Jess said with a gentle smile.

Sam didn't know what to say.

"I missed you," she said.

Shock rattled around in Sam's sleep-deprived brain as he said, "Jessica?"

He must've fallen asleep at some point, because there was no way that-

"I'm dreaming," Sam said, realization setting in.

"Or you're not," Jess said, "What's the difference? I'm here."

Sam's heart pounded heavily. The only form of comfort he'd had was the demon that broke his heart and stabbed him in the back. There was also the Trickster, but after what he'd said to him in the panic room, Sam didn't think the Trickster would want anything more to do with him. Having Jess there was more of a comfort than he deserved, and he felt starved for it.

"I miss you so much," Sam said, emotion pouring from his words.

Jess said, "I know. I miss you, too." She reached forward and held Sam's hand. It felt like someone had finally let the air back in the room.

"What are you doing, Sam?" Jess asked.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked. It seemed to him that he was holding his dead girlfriend's hand and feeling better than he had in months.

"Running away. Haven't we been down this road before?" she asked.

Sam said quickly, "No. It's different now."

"Really?" Jess asked.

"Last time, I wanted to be normal," Sam said, "This time...I know I'm a freak." It hurt to say these words to Jess, but the pain didn't make them any less true. He'd thought he'd hated himself when Jess died; he hadn't known the meaning of the word 'self-loathing' until now.

"Which is all a big ball of semantics. You know that," Jess said.

"No," Sam said.

"Even at Stanford, you knew," Jess pressed, "You knew there was something dark inside of you. Deep down, maybe, but you knew. Baby, that's what got me killed."

Sam looked up at her, sadness and guilt and shame worming their way through his brain. "No," he said.

"I was dead from the moment we said hello," she said.

He knew he was dreaming, he knew this was just his subconscious beating him up, but hearing Jess say that just ripped into him further, deeper, than anything else. "No," he said again.

"Don't you get it?" Jess asked, "You can't run from yourself. Why are you running now?"

Sam couldn't take much more of this. "Why are you here, Jess?" he asked.

"Would you believe I'm actually trying to protect you?" she asked.

"From what?"

"You."

Sam swallowed, staring at Jess with fear and vulnerable pain.

"Sooner or later, the past is gonna catch up to you like it always does," she said, "You know what happens then? People die."

Sam tried to steel himself against those words, but it felt like a slap in the face. A very viscerally true slap in the face.

"Baby, the people closest to you die," Jess said.

Jess. Dad. Ruby. Dean several times. Hell, it was only a matter of time before the Trickster died because of him, too. This is why he'd chosen his exile. He wasn't running from anything, he was keeping everyone he had left safe from him.

Still, Sam went on the defense. "Well, don't worry, because I won't make that mistake again," he said.

"Same song, different verse," Jess said softly, "Things are never gonna change with you. Never."

Sam struggled not to cry in front of Jessica, but as the first tear escaped his eye, she disappeared.

Sam woke up with a start. He needed a drink. Or ten. But no Impala meant he had to walk. And walking at night to a bar in an unfamiliar town wasn't exactly the brightest idea.

And yet, that's still what Sam did. He managed to get lost before he found the bar, but the night air still helped him clear his head and take the edge off the wounds Jess' words had inflicted. So, he kept walking.

When it got light out, Sam finally broke down and called a cab back to the motel. The driver was nice, and the ride was smooth, but the driver wasn't Dean, and the car wasn't the Impala. It stung, but it was for the best. Sam grabbed his bag out of the trunk and walked back to his motel room.

This exile had to be permanent. He had to be done with hunting. For everyone else's sake, he had to be.

Sam pulled his tin of fake IDs out of his bag and tossed the IDs in the motel sink. Pouring lighter fluid on them, he hoped that Dean missed him. He hoped the Trickster had forgiven him. But he couldn't bring himself to confirm either of these as true. Sam lit a match and set the fake IDs ablaze. He wouldn't need them anymore. He was done. It was over.

Later that day, he did manage to find the nearest bar. Hoyt's bar was only a few blocks from the motel...just in the direction that Sam hadn't wandered in the night before. Instead of getting drunk, Sam asked for a job. He needed to start over, make himself a clean slate. An honest job was the first step. Luckily, they needed a busboy. That was something Sam was more than willing to help with. His new boss gave him a rag and a wash bin, and Sam got to work, glad to disappear into the everyday mundane.

Over the next few days, he wiped counters, sliced lemons for the drinks, collected empty glasses, and put all of his energy into doing his job well so he could stop thinking about everything he'd willingly left behind. A waitress he worked with seemed very interested by him, but Sam couldn't think about that. His exile was all about not having attachments. All he wanted to focus on was living simply and quietly and not causing any more damage to anyone else.

Everyday, he'd go to work, wipe down the bar, and keep his head down. Every night, he'd go back to the motel and dream of Jess, where his subconscious would beat him bloody over the fact that he was hiding. Honestly, he wished the Trickster would come and stop these dreams, pop into his head and save him from himself. But he never did. Honestly, if the Trickster wanted anything to do with Sam, he would've shown up by then. But he didn't. And Sam could take a hint. It was better for the both of them anyway.

"Hey, Keith," the waitress said one night, calling him by his alias, "Do you play?" She threw another dart at the dart board, trying to get Sam interested.

"That depends," he said, "What are we playing for?"

"World peace," she said.

Sam pretended that didn't sting and replied like a normal, everyday, didn't-start-the-damn-apocalypse person would reply. "Oh, is that all?" he asked.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked.

"Shoot," he said.

"You finish that, uh, crossword puzzle in the kitchen?" she asked.

Sam was a little confused. Did she want to finish the puzzle? "Uh, I-I guess," he said, "Why?"

"The New York Times Saturday crossword?" she pressed.

"Was it?" he asked.

"Uh huh," she said, "You blow into town last week. You don't talk to anybody. You're obviously highly educated. You're like this-"

"Riddle wrapped inside an enigma wrapped inside a taco?" Sam supplied, trying to be a smart ass.

The waitress grinned. "Here's what we play for," she said, turning back to the dart board, "When I win, you buy me dinner and tell me your life story."

"Sounds fair," Sam said. He stepped towards the dart board. Without hesitation, he landed bulls-eye after bulls-eye like he'd known he would.

"Very misterioso," the waitress said, looking from the dart board to Sam.

The TV playing above the bar grabbed Sam's attention as the announcer said, "Freak hail, lightning strikes, now fire consuming the town of Hawley tonight, John."

The waitress said something, but Sam didn't pay attention. He knew those weird weather patterns were signs of something serious brewing.

"Locals say what started as a torrential hailstorm late this afternoon suddenly turned to massive lightning strikes that triggered the fire now consuming more than 20 acres here along the Route 17 corridor."

Sam stared at the television. This was his fault. Oh, God, this was all his fault.

"County officials are advising all Hawley residents to prepare for what could become mandatory evacuations."

The bar owner shut off the TV and said, "Damn. Is it me, or does it seem like the end of the world?"

Sam kept his comments to himself. Instead, he tried to get back to work without punching something or wanting to kill himself. This was his fault. He had ended the goddamn world.

When he got back to the motel, he started researching. It felt good, like he was doing what he was supposed to do. A few dead ends, but he finally found something. Sam pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found Dean. But he couldn't call his brother. Dean was better off without him. But someone needed to investigate this weather crap, and it couldn't be him. Sam called Bobby.

"Sam?" Bobby answered the phone gruffly.

Sam said, "Hey, Bobby, how you doing?"

"Well, I ain't runnin' any marathons, but I'll live," Bobby said.

Sam chuckled slightly, relieved that Bobby was doing better with the whole being stuck in a wheelchair thing.

"Where are you?" Bobby asked.

"Uh, Garber, Oklahoma," Sam said, "I found a town up the road showing some Revelation omens."

"What omens?" Bobby asked.

"Alright, listen to this, 'and upon his rising, there shall be hail and fire mixed with blood.'"

"Well, ain't that delightful."

"Yeah," Sam said, "We already got hailstorms and fires. I'm guessing blood can't be too far behind."

"Okay," Bobby said flatly.

Sam asked, "What?"

"There a reason you're calling?" Bobby asked.

Sam paused for a moment. He'd figured Bobby would understand. "Dean didn't tell you?" he asked cautiously.

"He told me," Bobby said.

"Yeah, so I just thought, you might want to find out who's in the area, put a man on this," Sam said.

"Okay, let me think of the best hunter who might be in the immediate vicinity. Oh-that'd be you," Bobby said.

Sam sighed at Bobby's sass. "I can't, Bobby," he said, "I'm sitting this one out."

"Sam-" Bobby started.

"I gotta go," Sam said quickly, "I'm so sorry."

"Hold on, Sam-"

Sam hung up the phone and tried not to feel awful. He wanted to clean up his mess. He desperately wanted to help. But he knew without a doubt that if he got involved, he'd just make everything worse.

Sam glanced around the motel room, but he was still alone. Usually, when his thoughts got a little more self-deprecating than usual, the Trickster would show up and talk him into a better mind set. He guessed he shouldn't be surprised that his friend had been AWOL since the incident in the panic room. And it wasn't like he didn't deserve every ounce of pain his brain could throw at him. But Sam missed his friend. He thought about calling for him, but he didn't. He deserved this.

The next day at work, Sam was busy cleaning up around the bar when Tim and his fellow hunters walked in.

"Hey, Sam," Tim called.

Sam tried to ignore him, but Tim called him again. "Sam!"

The waitress asked, "'Sam'? What happened to 'Keith'?"

Sam turned around and asked, "W-What?"

"He called you Sam," she said.

"Yeah, uh, Sam's my middle name," he said, try desperately to maintain his cover.

"Keith Sam?" she asked, "Man, I'm sorry."

"Well, actually, it's, uh, Samuel," Tim said, "So it's not quite as dumb as it sounds."

Sam scoffed with mock offense.

"Are you guys friends?" the waitress asked.

"Huntin' buddies with his dad," Steve said, "But Samuel here is quite the hunter himself."

Sam really wished he hadn't said that.

"Wow," the waitress said, "You kill deer and things?"

"Yeah, 'and things'" Tim said with a grin.

"Uh, why don't I get you guys some drinks?" Sam asked. He was desperate to end this conversation and get his old life away from his new one.

Sitting down with the hunters and a few beers, Sam felt a tad less nervous about the waitress learning more than she should about him.

Tim said, "Sorry, didn't mean to bust you back there."

"No, it, uh, it's all right," Sam said, making sure Lindsey, the waitress, wasn't within ear shot, "So, what's up?"

"Well, Bobby called," Tim said.

"And?" Sam asked.

"You were right," Tim said, "Major demon block party goin' on."

"But why?" Sam asked, "What are they up to?"

"Don't know yet," Steve said.

"Bobby told us you were off limits," Reggie said, "That true?"

"Yeah, that's right," Sam said. He hoped they would just let it lie and accept his decision to stay out of it.

"Well, that's fine in theory and all, but we could really use all hands on deck here," Tim said.

"I know you could," Sam said. He really didn't want to tell them the truth. They would never forgive him. "But I can't," he said, "I'm sorry."

Steve pressed, "Why not?"

"It's personal," Sam said, hoping that they'd just let him be.

"Look, Sam, no offense," Tim said, "But, uh, what baggage is so heavy, it can't be stowed away for the freakin' apocalypse, huh?"

"Like I said-" Sam started.

"Yeah," Reggie said, "You're sorry. Heard you the first time."

Tim looked at Sam and said, "Okay. Suit yourself." He started to get up and added, "More for us, then, right?"

"Good luck," Sam said.

Before they left, Tim turned and said, "Hey, hey. Beers are on you when we get back."

"Yeah, you bet," Sam said. The least he could do is get them some beers for not being able to help them.

Sam watched them leave as the waitress came up beside him and said, "So, your parents were drunk when they named you, and you shoot Bambi?"

"It-it's a long story," Sam said. After seeing those guys, he really wasn't up to the third degree from Lindsey today.

"That is it," she said, "Enough with the kung-fu wandering the earth thing. I'm gonna buy you dinner, and we're gonna talk."

"Lindsey, I can't."

"No. The only way to avoid bloodshed is to say yes."

Sam wanted to tell her how wrong she was. Jess was right. People who got close to him died.

But he saw that she wasn't going to give up on talking to him. So, reluctantly he nodded.

That night after their shifts were over, Lindsey took Sam to a diner down the street. The food was decent, but Sam didn't have much of an appetite.

"So, you gonna tell me who those guys back there really were? And don't say 'hunting buddies,'" Lindsey said.

Sam gave a small chuckle, trying to craft his lies as well as he could. "Okay, umm, we used to be in the same business together," he said. Half truths were easier to keep up than full lies.

But that wasn't enough for the waitress. "What business?" she asked.

Sam looked at Lindsey. She had to be kidding. "How's your salad?" he asked, changing the subject.

Lindsey smiled a little and said, "Witness protection, right? You're mafia?"

"I'm not mafia," Sam said, amused. She wouldn't be able to guess it right in a thousand years.

"Okay. I get it. I don't mean to pry. My bad," she said.

As she slipped into irritated silence, Sam decided to give her a little bit of info, at least enough to make her feel like she learned something. "I used to be in business with my brother," he said, "Truth is, I was pretty good at the job. But I made some mistakes. You know, I-I did some stuff I'm not so proud of. And people got hurt. A lot of people."

Sam tried not to dwell on the fact that everyone who had died so far as a result of Lucifer's rising were all his fault. Their blood was on his hands. And there wasn't any way he'd ever be able to get clean from that.

"What was your poison?" Lindsey asked.

"Sorry?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Come on. You were hooked on something, I know the look," she said.

Sam didn't know what to say. It wasn't like he could say 'demon blood' like she'd just accept that and not question his sanity.

Lindsey took a deep breath and pulled a sobriety chip out of her pocket. "Three years sober," she said.

"You work in a bar."

"So do you."

Sam chuckled a little under his breath.

"Look, 'Keith', I don't know you, and I'm the last person to be giving advice," Lindsey said, "But I do know that no one has ever done anything so bad they can't be forgiven. That they can't change."

Sam looked up at her. He wasn't so sure about that. He did appreciate her kindness, though didn't deserve it.

"Thanks," he muttered.

After that, Lindsey allowed them to slip into innocent small talk, and the rest of dinner passed by smoothly.

The next night, however, did not go smoothly at all.

Sam was finishing wiping up some tables after closing the bar when he heard the door open and the bell above it chime.

"Bar's closed," Sam said.

At the sound of heavy breathing, he turned around to see Tim standing in the bar.

"Hey," Sam said.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Sam?" Tim asked.

"What?" Sam said, confused, "No."

"You sure about that?" Tim asked.

"I don't know-jeez," Sam said, seeing all the blood that covered Tim's jacket and face, "Are you okay? Where are Reggie and Steve?"

"Oh, Steve's good. He's, uh...his guts are laying roadside outside the Hawley Five-and-Dime," Tim said.

"I'm sorry," Sam said. And God was he sorry. This was all his fault.

"'Sorry' don't cut it, Sam," Tim said.

Sam asked, "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth," Tim snapped.

Sam stayed silent.

"Okay. Fine. Let me give you some of my own, then," Tim said, "We go into town, we capture ourselves a demon, and we get jumped by ten more. Steve bought it."

"I'm sorry," Sam said again.

"Saying it twice don't make it so, Sam," Tim said, sternly, "But you see, this demon, he, uh, he told us things. Crazy things. Things about you, Sam."

"Demons lie," Sam said, trying as hard as he could not make an enemy of his friend.

"Yeah? I'm gonna ask you one last time. The Truth. Now," Tim snapped.

Reggie shoved he way through the door to the bar holding a struggling Lindsey tightly next to him.

"Lindsey," Sam said, alarmed.

Reggie held a Bowie knife to Lindsey's throat.

"What's going on?" she asked, fear saturating her voice.

Sam stared at Tim angrily. "Let's just take it easy, okay?" he said, "Put the knife down."

Tim looked to Reggie and back to Sam. Reggie slowly approached the bar with Lindsey in tow and placed the knife on the bar.

Once the knife was down and Lindsey was out of immediate danger, Sam said, "It's true. What the demon said, it's all true."

"Keep going," Tim said.

He was already going to have to leave town and ditch his job and start over again all the while knowing that Lindsey thought he was psychotic. Why would Tim make him say the rest?

"Why? You gonna hate me any less?" Sam asked, "Am I gonna hate myself any less? What do you want?"

"I want to hear you say it," Tim said.

Sam looked at Lindsey. He couldn't let her get hurt just because it would kill him a little bit more to say the words out loud.

Sam faced Tim and said, "I did it. I started the apocalypse."

Tim nodded and smiled a dark smile to himself. He pulled a red vial from his jacket.

"What is that?" Sam asked.

Tim said, "What do you think it is? It's go juice, Sammy boy."

"Get that away from me," Sam said.

"Away from you?" Tim asked, "Nah, this is for you. Hell if that demon wasn't as right as rain. Down the hatch, son."

"You're insane," Sam said.

"Look," Tim said, "Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna drink this, hulk out, and you're gonna kill every last one of those demon scum that killed my best friend. Or she dies."

Reggie handcuffed Lindsey to the bar.

"You wouldn't do that," Sam said.

"It's funny how watching your best friend die changes that," Tim said, "C'mon, you know you want it Sam. Just reach out and take it."

There was a moment, a long moment, where the urge to just drink it nearly overpowered him. But he was stronger than that.

Reggie rushed at Sam, but Sam flipped him on his back on the pool table and punched him. Before he could land another blow, Tim tackled him. Sam threw his elbow into Tim's face, but Reggie jumped on him quickly. Sam considered calling for the Trickster. This two on one thing was really unfair. But Sam had gotten himself into this mess, he'd get himself out.

Reggie put him in a headlock, and Tim forced the demon blood into his mouth.

Sam very nearly swallowed it and hulked out at them. But he didn't.

Reggie and Tim released him, and Sam slowly stood up.

"There, was that really so bad?" Tim asked.

Sam spat the blood out into Tim's face. He blocked a punch from Reggie and landed his knee in Reggie's side. Tim ran at him, and Sam slugged him across the face, knocking him out. Reggie started to get up, but Sam kicked him down again.

Sam picked Tim up by his jacket and slammed him into the bar, making Lindsey gasp. He grabbed the Bowie knife and held it to Tim's throat.

But he stopped. He saw Lindsey staring at him in fear. Like he was a monster.

Slowly, Sam let Tim up and shoved him across the room towards Reggie.

"Go," Sam said, pointing to the door.

"Don't think we won't be back," Reggie said with a snarl.

"Don't think I won't be here," Sam said angrily.

The hunters left the bar, and Sam looked at Lindsey. He could only imagine what she saw when she looked at him. He could feel the blood smeared across his face. He was a monster. He was the reason Dean was now hunting without him. He was the reason the Trickster was done with him. And he deserved what he had wrought.

Sam slowly approached Lindsey with his hands up and picked the lock on the handcuffs. Once free, she backed up a few spaces, staring at Sam with wide, scared eyes.

"I'll leave town first thing in the morning," he said, "If they do come back, call me. I'll leave my number in the kitchen, okay?"

Lindsey nodded quickly and bolted out the door.

Sam had the overwhelming urge to sit on the floor and cry, but now wasn't the time to feel sorry for himself. He staggered over to the kitchen and wrote his number down on the whiteboard on the wall before making his way back to the motel.

That night, he fell asleep quickly only to be woken moments later by Jess saying, "Sam?"

When he turned over, she was there in bed next to him. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Jess turned to face him and asked, "So, this is your life now? You think you can just live forever with your head buried in the sand?"

She ran her fingers through his hair soothingly.

Sam sighed, "I love you, Jess." He sat up and turned away from her. He said, "God knows how much I miss you, too, but you're wrong. People can change. There is reason for hope."

Jess brushed his hair back and said softly, "No, Sam, there isn't."

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked.

"Because you freed me," came a man's voice.

Sam looked behind him to see a man in sandy blonde hair and a green flannel shirt sitting where only moments ago Jess had been. He stood up quickly, the man's hand falling from Sam's shoulder.

"That's right," the man said, "You know who I am."

And he was right. Sam did know.

"Lucifer," Sam said.

"You are a hard one to find, Sam," Lucifer said, "Harder than most humans. I don't supposed you'd tell me where you are?"

"What do you want with me?" Sam asked.

"Thanks to you, I walk the earth," Lucifer said, "I want to give you a gift. I want to give you everything."

"I don't want anything from you," Sam snapped.

Lucifer looked up at Sam sadly. He said, "I'm so sorry, Sam. I-I really am, but Nick here is just an improvisation. Plan 'B.' He can barely contain me without spontaneously combusting."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

Lucifer stood from the bed and said, "Why do you think you were in that chapel?"

Sam took a step back, wanting as much space between him and the Devil as he could possibly get.

"You're the one, Sam," Lucifer said softly, "You're my vessel, my true vessel."

"No," Sam said, nearly whispering.

"Yes," Lucifer said, nodding.

"No," Sam said again, "That'll never happen."

"I'm sorry, but it will," Lucifer said, "I will find you, and when I do, you will let me in. I'm sure of it."

Sam said, "You need my consent."

"Of course, I'm an angel," Lucifer said, like it was obvious.

Sam laughed a small laugh realizing that he had a choice. "I will kill myself before letting you in," he said.

Lucifer rolled his eye and said, "And I'll just bring you back."

Sam stared at the Devil while horror crept up his spine.

"Sam, my heart breaks for you. The weight on shoulders. What you've done, what you still have to do. It is more than anyone could bear. If there was some other way..." Lucifer said, "But there isn't. I will never lie to you. I will never trick you. But you will say yes to me."

"You're wrong," Sam said.

"I'm not," Lucifer insisted, "I think I know you better than you know yourself."

And just when Sam thought he couldn't hate himself anymore.

"Why me?" Sam asked.

"Because it had to be you, Sam," Lucifer said, "It always had to be you."

Sam dropped his head, trying not to cry in front of Satan himself. When he looked up, he was alone in the room.

He knew what he had to do.

Sam woke up and instantly reached for his phone on the nightstand. He scrolled through his contacts and called Dean.

"Hey, you've reached Dean. Leave your name, number, and nightmare at the tone."

Shit.

Sam got up out of bed. He needed help. He needed to warn Dean.

"Trickster," Sam said out loud, "Trickster, I need your help. Please, if you can hear me, I-

The Trickster appeared before Sam and said, "We need to go right now."

"What? I-"

The Trickster put a hand on Sam's shoulder, and, suddenly, they were on a cloudy shoreline.

Before Sam could say anything, the Trickster pulled Sam into a tight hug and said, "Thank you. Thank you for calling me. I was so worried."

"You were worried?" Sam asked, pulling away from the Trickster slightly.

"Yes, damn it, I was worried. First, Lucifer's out of the box, then I can't find you anywhere. How the hell are you doing that, by the way?"

"Cas put some sort of spell on our ribs. Dean and I both are shielded or something like that, but I thought that was only supposed to work on angels," Sam said.

The Trickster sighed and said, "Castiel probably fucked it up and gave me a damn heart attack. Okay, I'll have to get used to that. Whatever. I'm just so glad you're okay, kiddo."

Sam asked, "So, you're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" the Trickster asked, perplexed.

Sam gave him a self-deprecating smile and said, "Why wouldn't you be? I said some really stupid shit to you in the panic room, I didn't listen about Ruby, I released Lucifer while you and Dean and Bobby and everyone were telling me not to."

The Trickster smiled and said, "You didn't know what would happen. You didn't realize we were trying to help. Should you have not trusted a demon so much? Probably. But this isn't your fault. You didn't know."

Sam felt tears spring to his eyes as he hugged his friend. "God, I missed you," he said.

The Trickster returned the hug and said, "Right back at ya, kiddo."

When Sam pulled away, he asked, "So, uh, why are we here? Why did we need to leave so fast?"

The Trickster's expression hardened a little. "You know how I said calling me is like praying? Well, it's a lot like praying, and Lucifer will have heard it. Can't have ol' Luci finding you now, can we? So, I zapped us here. To a beach. A beach so nondescript that it looks like all the other beaches. He won't be able to find you so easy. Not on my watch," he said.

Sam's chest tightened at the thought of Lucifer finding him. "Lucifer was in my dream," he said, "He said I was his true vessel. And if Dean is Michael's vessel, then we-God, I can't-"

The Trickster held his hands gently and pressed his forehead to Sam's. He said, "I'm so, so sorry, kiddo."


	11. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to fluffy_miracle as it was her birthday last Saturday! =D (better late than never, right?)
> 
> Also, this chapter contains a sex scene (sorry, couldn't help it) just a head's up!

Of course, a beach side getaway could only last so long. Sam wanted to contact Dean, which was completely understandable, since if Gabriel was getting this right, only one of the Winchesters knew about the vessel situation regarding the apocalypse. Honestly, Gabriel was kind of glad that Lucifer had chosen to clue Sam in. It made it easier to talk to him about life altering, world ending things without dancing around delicate subjects.

And this is how Gabriel found himself riding shotgun in a golden car he'd conjured up while Sam drove towards where ever he seemed to think his brother was.

Sam drove, hanging up the phone angrily. "I keep getting his voicemail," he said.

Gabriel said, "Maybe I should try calling him."

"Oh, yeah, that'd go over with him really well," Sam said, dialing again.

"Damn it, Cas, I need to sleep," Dean said angrily when he answered the phone.

Sam glanced over at Gabriel. Why was Dean assuming it was Cas? What the hell was going on with them lately? Why was Sam looking at him like he had something to do with Cas and Dean and their phone calls?

"Dean, it's me," Sam said.

Gabriel decided it was probably for the best to hear both sides of the conversation, just in case he had to do some damage control with Samsquatch afterward.

"Sam?" Dean asked, "It's a quarter past four."

"This is important," Sam pressed.

Sam went into the schpiel about being the vessel and the impending apocalypse. The pain in Sam's voice as he said it stung Gabriel. He put his hand on Sam's knee as a small source of comfort. Sam glanced at Gabriel and gave him a small smile as he waited for Dean's reaction.

"So, you're his vessel, huh?" Dean asked, "Lucifer's wearing you to the prom?"

"That's what he said," Sam said.

"Just when you thought you were out, they pull you back in, huh, Sammy?" Dean said.

Gabriel rubbed Sam's thigh lightly.

"So, that's it?" Sam asked Dean, "That's your response?"

"What are you looking for?"

"I don't know," Sam said, "A little panic, maybe?"

Gabriel could feel the panic rising in Sam's chest. He tried not to worry too much and focused on watching the street lights go by. It was a beautiful night, and he enjoyed spending time with Sam on the road; he just wished it was under better circumstances.

"I guess I'm a little numb to the earth shattering revelations at this point," Dean said.

"What are we gonna do about it?" Sam asked.

Dean asked, "What do you want to do about it?"

Gabriel glanced at Sam. He knew very well there wasn't anything either of them could do about it.

"I want back in, for starters," Sam said.

"Sam-" Dean started.

"I mean it," Sam said, "I am sick of being a puppet to these sons of bitches. I'm gonna hunt him down, Dean."

"Oh, so we're back to revenge then, are we? Yeah, 'cause that worked out so well last time," Dean said.

"Not revenge," Sam said, "Redemption."

Gabriel's hand stilled on Sam's leg. Lucifer had been out of the cage for a couple of weeks. Gabriel had been out of touch with Sam for a couple of weeks. How bad had that kid's head space gotten

"So, what, you're just gonna walk back in, and we're gonna be the dynamic duo again?" Dean asked.

"Look, Dean," Sam pressed, "I can do this, I can. I'm gonna prove it to you."

Dean was silent for a moment on the other end of the line, and Gabriel started to worry that the guy had hung up.

"Look, Sam," Dean said, "It doesn't matter...whatever we do. I mean, it turns out that you and me, we're the, uh, the fire and the oil of Armageddon. You know, on that basis alone, we should just pick a hemisphere, stay away from each other for good."

Sam's eyes widened a little, and his hand gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. Oh yes, Gabriel felt very glad that he listened to both sides of the call. He'd definitely have some work to do later.

"Dean, it does not have to be like this," Sam said, voice full of desperation and anger, "We can fight it."

"Yeah, you're right, we can. But not together. We're not stronger when we're together, Sam. I think we're weaker. Because whatever we have between us-love, family, whatever it is-they are always gonna use it against us. And you know that."

Sam's face betrayed the hurt he was feeling. He stared out through the windshield with a hopelessness on his face that Gabriel hadn't seen since Dean had been dragged to hell.

"We're better off apart," Dean continued, "We got a better chance of dodging Lucifer and Michael and this whole damn thing...if we just go our own ways."

"Dean, don't do this," Sam said.

Dean said, "Bye, Sam."

Dean hung up the phone.

Sam let the phone drop to his lap.

Gabriel didn't know what to say or do to make this better.

"I'm assuming you heard that whole thing," Sam said quietly.

Gabriel said, "Yeah, I heard."

Sam nodded and kept staring out the window with this blank vaguely in shock expression on his face.

"You know what?" Gabriel asked, "How about we go do something fun just the two of us?"

"What?" Sam asked, "I have to figure out what to do about Lucifer and the apocalypse by myself, and you just want to-"

"Sam, you're not by yourself. You've got me. And we can tackle the apocalypse later. It's not going anywhere. It'll still be here when we get back. Since you're not saying 'yes' to Lucifer anytime soon, you can afford a mental health day."

"A mental health day?"

"Yep, a mental health day. No apocalypse. No shithead brothers. Just you and me and whatever you want to do. What do you say?" Gabriel asked.

Sam sighed and said, "I'd say that sounds nice."

"Then, let's do it. Carpe diem, Sammich!"

Sam chuckled under his breath. "You know what?" he said, "Okay."

Gabriel grinned and snapped his fingers.

They stood in the middle of a wooded area. Small pools of moonlight slipped through the leaves of the trees, lighting up the soft earth.

"Where are we?" Sam asked.

Gabriel smiled and said, "I'll tell you in a minute. Follow me."

Gabriel walked down a path that he knew Sam probably couldn't see, but he followed it diligently. Sam followed close behind him, taking in the sight of the forest.

"Y'know, I love nature as much as the next guy, but we've got work to do, and I'm not sure-" Sam started.

Gabriel turned around to face Sam and said, "Oh, no. Right now, there's no apocalypse. Lucifer is safe in the cage. Dean is living happily with Castiel in some small suburb where their biggest worry is whether or not their cabinets are actually made of mahogany."

"What?" Sam laughed.

Gabriel tugged Sam's hand and led him towards their destination. He said, "And you and I are out in the more mountain-y areas of Vermont and just relaxing."

They came to the edge of the woods where the treeline stopped and opened to a small cliff. But that wasn't why Gabriel brought Sam here. It was for the view.

Past the cliff was open, cloudless, starry sky and a small town full of twinkling lights below. There were small bluffs and valleys from the mountain range they were on that continued off into the distance as far as they could see. Honestly, it was one of Gabriel's favorite places to be if he wasn't sitting on a beach. Beaches were always best.

But he figured he'd taken Sam to quite a few beaches. The last thing he wanted was to start being predictable.

Sam looked out over the cliff and said, "Wow. Now, that's a view. This is beautiful. How'd you even know about this place?"

Gabriel sat down in the grass and said, "I come here sometimes to think."

He wanted to tell Sam that he made this place. He wanted to tell him about the games that he and Lucifer used to play seeing who could make the tallest mountain without causing a landslide. He wanted to tell him about how Heaven used to be, how wonderful his brothers were, how beautiful his Father was. He wanted to tell him everything.

But he couldn't. Especially not now. If Sam found out he was an archangel, he'd think that Gabriel was just like the rest of them. Their friendship wouldn't be able to counter the fact that he was the same kind of monster that was currently threatening the world. Sam would look at Gabriel like he was the monster that Heaven wanted him to be.

Couldn't have that.

Sam sat down next to Gabriel, still looking out at the world. Gabriel looked at Sam and distracted himself with just how much he enjoyed seeing the moonlight get caught in Sam's hair.

"It is really relaxing here," Sam said after a while.

Gabriel smiled. "We can stay here as long as you want," he said.

Sam turned to Gabriel and asked, "Why are you doing this?"

"What do you mean? You obviously needed to relax, so-"

"No, I mean, why are you helping me? Why are you always here for me? Even though I know I've asked this before, I guess I still don't get it, but why on earth are you, a demigod, friends with me, a random human?"

Gabriel took Sam's hand in his, looked down at their hands together, and said, "Sam, you are far from a random human."

"That doesn't answer my-"

Gabriel looked up at Sam. "I love you," he said.

Sam went completely rigid, but he waited for Gabriel to continue.

Gabriel took a deep breath and said, "I love you. I don't know why, but I do. No, that's a lie. I know why. I just...it was definitely not a part of my plan. Sure, I thought you were easy on the eyes when we first met, but I never thought...It was the Mystery Spot, okay? I spent way too much time with you during that whole thing, and I started to get...attached. I've never hated myself more than when I did that to you. I-"

"I forgave you for the Mystery Spot a long time ago," Sam said softly.

Gabriel smiled up at Sam. He didn't deserve to be forgiven for that, but he was endless glad that he had been.

"So," Sam said after a moment, "You're in love with me."

"Yeah," Gabriel said, "I'm sorry if that's weird or-"

"It's not weird. It's actually pretty great. But you shouldn't feel that way about me," Sam said.

"Why shouldn't I? I mean, I know we're not exactly the same species, but-"

"The people I love most get hurt. And I can't-I can't go through that again."

"Sam, I'm not following you," Gabriel said.

Sam sighed and said, "The first girl I had a crush on killed her own mother for me."

"I don't have parents, so that's not exactly a deal breaker, kiddo," Gabriel said.

Sam looked at Gabriel with a deep, old pain in his eyes. "I fell in love with a girl named Jessica. She was gorgeous, funny, brilliant. And she died because of me. Azazel killed her the same way he killed my mother," he said.

"Sam, I-"

"I started having feelings for a girl named Madison. She got turned into a werewolf and had me shoot her to keep her from hurting anyone else."

Gabriel stared at Sam, not sure what he could possibly say to that.

"Even my family. I lost my mom, my dad. Even Dean a few times," Sam said.

Gabriel started to feel like he was getting the picture, but he kept quiet.

"And I know you hated Ruby," Sam said, voice sounding thick with tears, "But I loved her. She tricked me, she used me, and I hate her now, but I really did love her. And she's dead, too."

Gabriel squeezed Sam's hand.

Sam took a deep breath and said, "I know I have feelings for you. You've been there for me in ways that no one else ever has. You were there for me when Dean died. You always try to make me feel better, even when I know I don't deserve it. I started the damn apocalypse, and you still look at me like I put the sun in the sky. And there are times when I look at you and you just seem so lost and sad, and all I want to do is figure out how I can help you for a change. But if I say that I love you, I'm going to lose you. I'm cursed, and I'm starting to accept that, but I will never, ever forgive myself if you get hurt because of me."

Gabriel beamed at Sam. He slowly moved over and straddled Sam's lap, legs wrapped around Sam's torso. "Sam," he said, "Is the only thing keeping you from kissing me right now the fact that you think I'm going to die?"

Sam met Gabriel's gaze and nodded slowly.

Gabriel gently pressed his lips to Sam's, deepening the kiss and taking no time in running his fingers through Sam's long hair.

Gabriel broke the kiss and said, "I'm not going anywhere, kiddo. You and your brother thought you killed me, and that didn't work. I've had a few gods get on my bad side, and they've never been able to do a damn thing. I've been around for a long time, thousands of years. Trust me, Sammy. Nobody, and I mean nobody, tricks the Trickster."

Sam grinned and kissed Gabriel back excitedly. Gabriel had dreamed of Sam playing with his hair for years, but none of those fantasies could hold a candle to how amazing it felt when Sam ran his fingers through Gabriel's hair in real life. Gabriel couldn't help but moan, and he really didn't care how it sounded. This was all just too amazing to hold anything back. At the end of the day, it didn't matter if Sam was cursed or if Gabriel still hadn't told him the truth about his identity, because holy fucking hell, Sam Winchester loved him.

They kept kissing and nipping at each other until neither one of them could feel their lips anymore. Even then, their hands picked up the slack, rubbing and exploring until they found themselves cuddling, nuzzled together under the light of the moon and stars.

And that was when Sam's phone rang.

Gabriel had never tried to smite an inanimate object before, but he had the sudden overwhelming urge to give it a shot.

"Hello?" Sam answered, rubbing Gabriel's shoulder as if that would soothe the archangel's irritation.

"Dean?" Sam said, shocked. He sat upright quickly. Gabriel sat up and tuned into the phone call.

"Yeah, it's me," Dean said, voice a bit shaky, "I, uh, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. Umm, could we meet up in the morning and talk?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll meet you. Just text me an address," Sam said.

"Okay, yeah. I'll text you. See you tomorrow," Dean said. He hung up.

Sam looked at his phone and said, "I wonder why he didn't want to meet up now. Morning's only in a few hours."

"Castiel was with him. I've got a few guesses why Dean would want to wait a few hours," Gabriel said.

Sam asked, "How'd you know Castiel was with him? And why do you keep insinuating that he and Dean are-"

Gabriel grinned and said, "I know, because I'm awesome. Also, they're totally in love with each other. You can't tell me you haven't seen how they awkwardly stare at each other all the damn time. If looks were actions, those boys would be naked every time they so much as glance at each other."

"Dude, gross. That's my brother, I don't want to have that kind of mental image. And how the hell have you noticed? You've never even met Cas."

"When I get bored, I like to look at your recent memories and catch up on stuff I miss."

"When you're bored?" Sam asked.

"Or curious," Gabriel said.

Sam smiled and said, "I thought I told you to stay out of my head."

"I don't listen to your thoughts. But you never said anything about your visual memory. Plus, you notice every time I'm in your head anyway," Gabriel said.

"No, I don't," Sam said.

"Yes, you do," Gabriel said, "It might feel more like an itch at the back of your head, but you always knows where I am and what I'm doing in there. It's unnerving."

Sam pulled Gabriel on top of him and said, "Read my mind now."

Gabriel quickly reached into Sam's mind but stopped abruptly at the thought being unfurled at him. 'We have a few hours. What would you like to do?'

Gabriel grinned and snapped his fingers.

They were still in the same position, but they were now in a very large hotel room on a very comfortable bed.

Gabriel whispered into Sam's mind 'I have a few ideas.'

Sam grinned up at Gabriel and said out loud, "Your voice is warm in my head. Is that normal?"

"I just spoke to you telepathically, and you want to talk about 'normal'?" Gabriel said with a laugh.

Sam laughed. "You make a good point," he said. He pulled Gabriel down into a kiss, which made Gabriel's heart sing. The fact that Sam wanted him made him want to spread his wings, fly high into the sky, and shout it to the world. And that is how he knew exactly what he had to do.

Gabriel broke the kiss and said, "I'll help."

Sam looked at Gabriel confused. "You'll help with what?" he asked.

"I'll help stop the apocalypse," Gabriel said.

Sam sat up and looked at Gabriel with wide eyes. He asked, "You'll help us stop Lucifer?"

"Yes. I'll help in any way that I can. Of course, there's a slightly bigger problem we'll have to deal with first. And that would be your brother," Gabriel said.

Sam sighed and said, "Yeah, Dean is pretty stubborn. He's not going to like the idea of working with you."

Gabriel grinned impishly. "I have a plan," he said, "But we'll need to work together to pull it off. First, I cause a little mayhem, create a case for you guys, but I'll make it obvious it's me. Just desserts. Candy wrappers. The works. Then, you suggest to Dean that maybe I can be of some use to this whole apocalypse thing. I'll let you guys find me, and boom, we've got ourselves a team."

"And that way I won't have to tell him that we've been friends this whole time. This works out great," Sam said.

Gabriel grinned. He was a bit terrified about keeping Heaven from finding out about this, and a lot terrified that Castiel would figure out who he was and spill the beans to the boys. But this was the only way he'd have a shot of being with Sam. This was the only way that humanity might be saved at all.

Sam looked up at Gabriel with an intense look. Gabriel wasn't quite familiar with this look from Sam, but it filled him with a fiery want. He wasn't sure which would be more satisfying, snapping away their clothes instantly or taking his time unbuttoning Sam's plaid flannel with his teeth.

All Gabriel knew is that he wanted to devour Sam, and not in the way befitting a pagan god.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked.

"About what?" Gabriel asked.

Sam said softly, "That you love me."

Gabriel smiled and said, "Deadly sure. Are you?"

"Am I what?" Sam asked.

"Sure that you've got feelings for me."

"Yeah," Sam said, "I'm pretty sure about that."

Gabriel grinned impishly and asked, "How sure are you about that?" He nipped at Sam's neck lightly. "Would you say 25% sure?" He ripped open Sam's shirt, buttons clattering to the floor. "50% sure?" Gabriel mouthed his way down Sam's chest to where his lips ghosted over Sam's treasure trail. "Or are you completely, 100% certain that you want me?"

Sam flipped Gabriel onto his back and leaned in close to his face. "I'm sure," he said. He raked his teeth against Gabriel's neck, making the archangel see fireworks. Slowly, Sam brought up a knee between Gabriel's legs, spreading delicious heat through Gabriel's body. "I'm damn sure," Sam murmured, kissing Gabriel deeply.

Gabriel grinned widely and snapped his fingers, making the clothing between disappear.

Sam pressed his bare chest against Gabriel's and said in a low voice, "You know, I liked that shirt."

Gabriel pushed Sam back and sat up with Sam, straddling his hips. "Don't worry. You can have it back when we're done," he said.

Gabriel crushed his lips to Sam's as Sam grabbed a fistful of Gabriel's hair. Gabriel's hands trailed down Sam's back and sides like he needed to touch every single inch of him.

Sam pushed Gabriel back onto the bed, staring at him with lust-blown eyes.

"If you want me, come and get me, Samsquatch," Gabriel said with a grin.

"Lube?" Sam asked.

"Already got you covered, Sammy," Gabriel said. He slicked Sam's dick with a single thought.

Sam looked down for a moment and looked back at Gabriel. "I thought you had to snap your fingers to-"

"Only do it 'cause I can, not 'cause I have to," Gabriel said quickly, "Now, what are you waiting for?"

"Don't I need to prep you? I mean-"

"Trust me, Sam. I'm ready for you," Gabriel said.

Apparently, Sam didn't need to be told twice. He slammed into Gabriel, dragging a long, gasping moan out of the archangel. Gabriel pulled Sam down into a rough kiss. He bit the hunter's lower lip, which only made Sam start moving in and out of Gabriel faster and harder. Gabriel buried his fingers in Sam's hair, and Sam bit the side of Gabriel's neck. Hell, yes.

Gabriel pushed Sam down onto his back and hopped on top of the taller man, making damn sure to keep Sam firmly inside of him. Putting his weight on his knees, Gabriel slowly slid up Sam's length, enjoying the look of elation plastered on that boy's gorgeous face. He slid back down to the base quickly, making Sam gasp.

Sam reached up and grabbed at Gabriel's shoulders. He leaned up closer, making an impressively unfair show of his abs, and kissed Gabriel roughly. Gabriel invaded Sam's mouth with his tongue, savoring the very taste of him. One of Sam's hands dropped from Gabriel's shoulder and traveled down to Gabriel's throbbing cock.

That. That was a game changer.

Sam wrapped his fingers around Gabriel's length, pumping him in time with Gabriel's quick movements. Gabriel stilled, unable to process the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through his system.

Sam sucked Gabriel's lower lip into his mouth, nibbling lightly, as he laid Gabriel back onto his back slowly. He moved his fist along Gabriel's dick in tandem with his rough, deep thrusts.

Heaven. This was Heaven. Gabriel had thought he'd been to Heaven before, but he was wrong. There was a place that he was from, and then there was this. This was Heaven.

Gabriel rocked up into Sam, making Sam shudder from the pleasure of it.

Sam moved faster. Harder. Deeper.

Gabriel kissed Sam harder. Hands moving over his bare skin. Faster. Harder.

Gabriel dragged his fingers down Sam's back.

Sam dragged his teeth over Gabriel's earlobe.

Gabriel arched upwards and sucked Sam's nipple into his mouth.

Sam gasped and twisted a hand into Gabriel's hair.

Gabriel moaned against Sam's chest and nipped and bit his way up to Sam's lips.

Sam kissed Gabriel within an inch of his life.

Just when Gabriel couldn't quite tell where he ended and Sam began, Sam came into Gabriel hard and fast. And that feeling was just enough to push Gabriel over the edge as well. Everything became fire and light and felt so fucking amazing.

Sam slipped out of Gabriel, panting.

Gabriel was afraid to close his eyes just in case this was all some wonderful dream. He rolled onto his side, gasping, watching the rapid rise and fall of Sam's sweat covered chest.

Sam rolled over to face Gabriel. He said softly, "You know, I don't think I've ever slept with someone when I didn't even know their name."

Gabriel scooted closer and kissed Sam gently. "After this is all over, the apocalypse and everything, I'll tell you my name. I'll tell you anything you want to know," he said.

Sam smiled and said, "All I want to do right now is fall asleep in your arms."

"Go for it, kiddo," Gabriel said, grinning.

Sam sighed and said, "I wish I could, but there's sunlight coming through the window. I need to go meet up with Dean."

Gabriel groaned. "Stupid sun," he muttered.

Sam laughed. He said, "Don't get mad at the sun. The sunlight in your hair is absolutely beautiful."

Gabriel kissed Sam again. How could he have possibly gotten so lucky? "I'm going to put you in the car we were in earlier just a little ways up the road from Dean," he said, "Give me a few days, and I'll set up a case for you guys. We'll get the apocalypse taken care of, and everything will be fine."

Sam smiled brightly and asked, "What about this?" He gestured between the two of them.

Gabriel grinned. "If you want me, I'm yours," he said.

"Good," Sam said. He kissed Gabriel deeply.

Gabriel kissed him back, snapped his fingers, and opened his eyes to an empty room. Sam was on his way to meet Dean fully clothed, much to Gabriel's chagrin, and Gabriel was...well, Gabriel was happier than he'd been in a long, long time.

Gabriel stood up and snapped his fingers. In one move, he cleaned up their post-sex mess, put clothes back on his body, made the bed, unlocked the door, and poured some fresh coffee.

And that was when he knew he fucked up.

A rush of wings behind him in the room had Gabriel's heart racing.

Michael. Fuck.

"Gabriel?" Michael asked.

"Hey, bro. Long time, no see," Gabriel said, turning around.

Michael crossed the room quickly and hugged Gabriel. "Gabriel, I can't believe it's really you. We thought you were dead. How are you here? What happened? Where have you been?"

"Are you wearing John Winchester?" Gabriel asked, gently removing himself from his brother's grasp.

Michael sighed and said, "Well, my real vessel is a bit stubborn, so improvisations had to be made."

"How did you find me?" Gabriel asked.

Michael tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Find you? Gabriel, you make it sound as if you're unhappy to see me," he said.

Gabriel tried not to let his brother's words sting. Of course, he wanted to see his brother. His missed his family so badly. He missed having a home, having a place where he belonged. It was a constant ache knowing that he could never go back to Heaven and still have his own free will.

But he kept his poker face in place. These feelings were not something Michael needed to know about.

At Gabriel's silence, Michael said, "So you are unhappy to see me. Is that what happened? You didn't die or fall with Lucifer, you just...ran away?"

"I'm sorry I left," Gabriel said, "But I had to. After what happened between you and Lucifer-"

"What happened between Lucifer and I was what our Father commanded," Michael snapped.

"That didn't make it hurt any less, Michael," Gabriel said.

Michael took a deep breath and said calmly, "But you could come home. Raphael misses you. I've missed you. I'm sure you know Lucifer has been released. We could really use you right now."

"As fun as that sounds, I made other plans, so I'm a little booked. Maybe next apocalypse," Gabriel said.

Michael frowned, studying Gabriel. "Who was here? Someone was in here before I got here. I thought it was Lucifer, but now, I can't tell."

"It was just me," Gabriel said.

Michael ran a hand across the foot of the bed slowly. "I felt a lot of grace being used, enough grace to drain a fledgling dry. I thought it was Lucifer, and it smelled like Lucifer, but I found you instead," he said "You, Gabriel, do not smell like Lucifer. You've never touched Hell. But this smell, this scent is all over this bed, all over your clothes. This scent is steeped in Hell...like a demon."

Gabriel stayed still, trying not to give himself away.

Michael looked up at Gabriel with burning eyes. "But it wasn't a demon, was it? No, not a demon. A human. A Winchester."

Michael slammed Gabriel up against the hotel room wall and said, "You were in here with Sam Winchester. And you tried protecting him from me? I know you've been gone a long time, brother, but there is a strong punishment for disloyalty."

"Who says I was being disloyal? Sure, I lied, but I didn't know you were looking for Sam. I just didn't think you'd appreciate knowing that I was hanging out with Lucifer's vessel," Gabriel said quickly.

Michael narrowed his eyes at his brother. "I don't believe you," he said coolly, "It was you, wasn't it? It was you that took them from the church when Lucifer rose? It's you that shielding them from us, isn't it."

Michael tightened his grip on Gabriel.

Gabriel said quickly, "Well, hey, I mean, that's not-I didn't shield them. That was somebody else."

Michael slammed Gabriel against the wall again. "I can't believe you'd go against your own family like this. We loved you. I loved you. How could you have been so... It doesn't matter. If you ever want to come home again, you'll help us for a change. You'll give us the Winchesters, you'll wait for the end to come, and you'll help us create paradise."

Gabriel shoved his brother away from him and said, "I've been away from home for a few thousand years. I can wait a while longer."

Michael sighed. He turned away from Gabriel and said, "Can't you see that it's inevitable?"

Gabriel regarded his brother cautiously.

Michael faced Gabriel. "The apocalypse will happen. It's been written since the beginning. This is a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Not even an archangel can disobey the will of God," he said, "Gabriel, I don't know what your attachment is to Sam Winchester, but he will die. There is no way around it. And you know that."

Gabriel said, "I can just bring him back."

"But will he want to live when so many others have died? Will he appreciate paradise knowing that he is responsible for placing the blood in the soil beneath his feet?" Michael asked.

"He's not responsible for what his fate has dealt him," Gabriel snapped.

Michael sighed and asked, "Do you hear yourself? Sam is playing into his fate. Free will is an illusion, Gabriel, and you know it. Why would you prolong the inevitable?"

Gabriel stared at Michael angrily. Why did his brother always have to be right?

Michael put a gentle hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "Think on this, then. By dragging out the apocalypse, more people will die. The more people that die, the more guilt Sam will have. And he's suffering already. Why would you allow him to suffer longer? Come home to your family, to your real family who love you like no other. Play games with the fledglings, train with the garrison, enjoy all the things you used to. Just come home."

Michael disappeared, and Gabriel slumped against the wall, sliding down to the floor awkwardly.

He knew what he had to do. Gabriel wished Michael wasn't right, but he was. The apocalypse wasn't going to stop just because Gabriel fell in love with a human. He'd known from the beginning that liking Sam Winchester was a bad idea. The kid was doomed. He'd known that. This wasn't news.

Gabriel couldn't think about how Sam would react to what he was going to do. He just needed to get it done, and get the ball rolling.

In the long run, this would be better for everyone. If Sam said yes to Lucifer, the apocalypse could just get the hell over with. Sam wouldn't keep beating himself up for things outside of his control. And Gabriel...Gabriel could finally go home.

All he needed now was an asshole whose healthy dose of payback was overdue.


	12. Changing Channels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long to update. BUT THIS CHAPTER WAS A LONG FREAKING CHAPTER TO WRITE!! So, I hope y'all enjoy it =]

"'Supernatural' is filmed before a live studio audience."

Dean placed the mustard and cheese spray back in the awkwardly yellow refrigerator in a way that angled it perfectly for product placement. The audience cheered as Dean turned around the admire the gargantuan sandwich he had constructed.

"I'm gonna need a bigger mouth," Dean said.

Sam walked through the door, not entirely sure how long he'd been standing on the other side of it with a look of exaggerated frustration on his face.

"Hey there, Sam," Dean said a little too clearly and loudly, "What's happening?"

Sam said, "Oh nothing, just the end of the world." He put his hands on his hips for emphasis. God, he hated sitcoms.

Dean gave his sarcasm an appreciative smile.

Sam looked at the sandwich on the table, almost genuinely surprised by its size. "You're gonna need a bigger mouth," he said.

Dean gestured broadly, making the audience cheer and laugh. Sam tried not to think about the sheer anger he was bottling up over his whole thing.

"Hey, uh, have you done your research yet?" Sam asked.

Dean got a funny look on his face and turned away, facing the audience with what was probably an even funnier face. "Oh, yeah," he said, "All kinds of research. All night."

"Yeah?" Sam said, feigning some pleasant surprise. He really hated this story line.

A nearly naked woman stepped out from the "motel" bathroom wearing what looked like a bikini but was probably supposed to be lingerie. Fucking sitcoms. "Oh, Dean," she said, "We have some more 'research' to do."

Sam turned to Dean like he was supposed to and folded his arms like he was supposed to. "Dean," he said with a scripted disapproving tone.

Dean turned towards the camera, like he was supposed to, and gave a comically timed, "Son of a bitch."

It was official. Sam Winchester was going to kill the Trickster.

Two days earlier in Wellington, Ohio...

The Trickster had told Sam the night before where to go for their staged case. Dean and Sam showed up in town, booked a room in the local motel, and got to work. It was all going according to plan. Until they were actually going to start working the case.

When Sam came out of the bathroom, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt, Dean was watching TV. That in and of itself wasn't weird, but Dean watching a doctor and a girl in scrubs make out in an elevator was definitely weird. It looked like...a soap opera.

"What are you watching?" Sam asked. He tried not to judge too harshly. He'd need to be on Dean's good side for his plan with the Trickster to work.

"It's a hospital show," Dean said, not taking his eyes away from the TV, "'Dr. Sexy M.D.' I think it's based on a book."

Sam chuckled. Okay, needing Dean to be in a good mood or not, Sam was not passing this one up. "When did you hit menopause?" he asked.

"It's called channel surfing," Dean said. Sam didn't miss the defensive tone in his brother's voice.

"You ready?" Sam asked, grabbing his suit jacket.

Dean got up, turned off the TV, and asked, "Are you?"

Dean gave Sam a threatening "no judgment" look, and all Sam could do was smile, knowing he'd caught his brother watching a hospital drama.

Once at the police station, Sam started to wonder if the Trickster hadn't laid it on a little too thick for this case. He also hoped the Trickster hadn't actually killed anybody to stage it. But seriously, the cops thought a bear chased Mr. Randolph into his house, up the stairs, and killed him in his bedroom. It was so far fetched, it seemed to scream that the Trickster was involved.

But maybe that was just because Sam knew the demigod was involved. He tried his best to keep a strong poker face through the whole thing.

He really did try.

Upon meeting the deceased man's wife, however, it became much, much harder to keep his composure over this case.

"No, it-it must've been a bear," Mrs. Randolph said, "I mean, what else could it have been?"

"Mrs. Randolph," Sam said gently, leaning forward.

The woman looked at Sam with her bright eyes, and for a minute she looked almost happy. Which made no sense since they were interrogating her about her dead husband.

Sam asked, "What did you think it was?"

"No, I-I remember clearly now," she said, "It was definitely a bear."

"We're sure it was," Dean said, "But see, it helps to hear every angle, so just tell us what you thought you saw."

"Well, it's impossible, but...I could've sworn I saw..." she started. She looked at Sam again with those bright eyes. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear she knew him.

"The Incredible Hulk," she finished. She dropped her eyes, and her lip twitched like she found the idea funny. Like she might erupt in a shit-eating grin at any moment. Which would make no sense unless...

Was it...? No, it couldn't be...except it could.

"The Incredible Hulk," Sam said, making sure he'd heard correctly.

"I told you. It's crazy," she said.

"You, umm-" Sam started. He felt something brush up his leg. Mrs. Randolph's foot? Holy shit, he was right. They were interrogating the Trickster. Of course they were. Sam tried his best to control his reaction as her foot moved further up his leg, but he knew he face betrayed everything. Hopefully, Dean took it as his reaction to the Incredible Hulk being their suspect rather than anything else going on.

"Bana or Norton?" Dean asked.

The Trickster withdrew her foot from Sam's leg, resting it on top of his shoe. "Oh, no," she said, "Those movies were terrible. The TV Hulk."

"Lou Ferrigno," Dean said.

"Yes," the Trickster said quickly.

"Spiky haired Lou Ferrigno," Dean said, still clearly not believing what he was hearing.

"Yes," the Trickster said again.

Dean nodded and said, "Huh." He turned towards Sam. Sam was desperately trying to ignore the foot still touching his while he met Dean's gaze with a confused look.

"Oh, you think I'm crazy," the Trickster said, looking down at her hands sadly.

Sam shook his head, trying to reassure her. Or at least make it look to Dean like he was trying to reassure her. All he wanted to do was get the hell out of that interrogation room.

"No, uh," Dean said, "No, it-it's just-is-is there, uh...would there be any reason Lou Ferrigno, the Incredible Hulk, um, would have a grudge against your husband?"

"No," she said, like it was obvious.

Dean said a quiet, "No," as if he'd been expecting any other answer.

"Well, thank you for your time, Mrs. Randolph," Sam said, "I think that's all the questions we have for you right now."

Dean nodded and stood up with Sam. Dean headed for the door. Sam followed, but the Trickster quickly grabbed his hand and gave Sam a small smile. Sam gave her a stern look, because honestly? In front of Dean? Really? The Trickster could've shot their entire plan in the foot before it even got off the ground.

After the precinct, Sam opted to check out the crime scene while Dean dug up some more info about the case. He needed some time to himself to try and regain his composure if he was going to manage to talk Dean into working with the Trickster.

Sam dropped Dean at the motel and headed off towards the Randolph house in the Impala.

"Hey, kiddo." The Trickster popped up in the passenger seat without warning, startling Sam into nearly crashing his brother's car.

Sam recovered from his swerve and said, "Do you always have to show up out of nowhere like that?"

"No, but it's more fun when I do," the Trickster said with a grin, "So, where are we going?"

"I was going to check out the crime scene," Sam said.

"Why would you do that?" the Trickster asked, "You already know I set all of this up."

"Because I have to work this like a regular case, so Dean doesn't get suspicious. Do the Randolphs even exist?" Sam asked.

"Nope, I made 'em up. Implanted memories are so useful that way."

"Is there even a crime scene?"

The Trickster said, "Of course there's a crime scene. There's paper trails, social security numbers, everything. You of all people should know I don't half ass anything." He gave Sam a suggestive grin, and Sam did all he could to fight the blush rising to his cheeks.

The Trickster laughed. They spent the rest of the car ride in comfortable silence with the Trickster occasionally giving Sam directions.

When they arrived, Sam said, "Y'know, you could've snapped us here."

The Trickster smiled and said, "Yeah, but I also like watching your hands work the wheel."

Sam rolled his eyes and got out of the car.

Well, this was definitely the right place. The front of the house had a giant, gaping hole instead of a door.

"You really Hulk-smashed through this house," Sam said.

The Trickster bowed and said, "Thank you, thank you."

Sam grinned. "Now, I just need some proof that you were here that I can show Dean," he said.

The Trickster looked up at Sam and asked, "What signs do you and your brother normally notice in a case where I'm involved?"

Sam shrugged and said, "People getting just desserts, candy, a very handsome demigod."

Something dark flashed behind the Trickster's eyes for a moment. Sam almost commented, but the look passed quickly. The Trickster produced a handful of candy wrappers and dropped them into Sam's hand.

"Here ya go, Sam, proof of a Trickster," the Trickster said.

There was something off about the Trickster's smile. The last time they'd been together, his smile had been bright, beautiful, and genuine. Now, his smile laid flat on his face. Something was wrong.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, reaching up to stroke the Trickster's cheek.

The Trickster leaned into the touch and closed his eyes for a moment. "Yeah," he said, "I'm fine. You should probably get back to Dean, though."

Sam could tell there was something the Trickster wasn't saying, but he didn't press it. There was always something the Trickster was hiding. This wasn't anything new. Still, Sam worried a bit.

They got back in the car and headed back towards the motel.

Halfway there, the Trickster turned to Sam and said, "I'll give you a sign when I'm ready for you guys. You've got a police radio, right?"

"Yeah," Sam said.

"Okay, good," the Trickster said, "Listen to that, and you'll know where I am."

"Got it," Sam said.

"Oh, and Sam?" the Trickster said.

Sam glanced over at him and said, "Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Sam said, smiling.

The Trickster snapped his fingers, leaving him alone in the car.

Sam drove the rest of the way back to the motel. He opened the door to the room to find Dean on the laptop.

"Hey," Sam said, closing the door behind him.

"Find anything?" Dean asked.

Sam took a breath. This was it. He needed to handle this perfectly. "Well, uh, I saw the house," he said.

"And?"

"And there is a giant, eight-foot-wide hole where the front door used to be. Almost like a..."

"A hulk-size hole," Dean finished.

"Maybe," Sam said, trying not to be too hasty to point Dean in the right direction, "What do you got?"

Dean said, "Well, it turns out Bill Randolph had quite the temper." He turned his attention to the laptop and pulled up a couple of files. "Uh, he's got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions," Dean said, "You might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry."

Sam chuckled to himself. So, that's what the Trickster was doing with this weird case. He was laying out his MO. "So, a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead," he said, "Kind of sounds like just desserts, doesn't it?"

That was always the phrase they used with the Trickster. Hopefully, if he coaxed Dean to the right conclusion, this would all go a lot smoother.

Sam said, "It's all starting to make sense."

"How's it all starting to make sense?" Dean asked.

Sam said, "Well, I found something else at the crime scene." He pulled out the wrappers that the Trickster had given him and said, "Candy wrappers. Lots of 'em." He dropped the candy wrappers on the table in front of Dean and hoped he'd make the connection.

Sam walked past Dean to take off his jacket as Dean reached for one of the wrappers. He cast Dean a sideways glance as his brother worked it out for himself.

"Just desserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before you kill 'em," Dean said, "We're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we?"

Sam made sure to keep his back to Dean to hide whatever his face could betray about this new development. "Sure looks like," he muttered. Dean had no idea who much they were dealing with the Trickster.

"Good," Dean said, "Been wanting to gank that mother since the Mystery Spot."

Sam glanced up at Dean, worried. If Dean wanted to kill the Trickster just like that, there was no way his brother would understand about his friendship with the demigod or relationship or whatever the hell was going on between them. Sure, the main point of this whole case was to be able to work with the Trickster to stop the apocalypse, but Sam had a bit of a bigger end game in the back of his mind. He hoped, through all of this, Sam might be able to tell Dean about the Trickster, about their friendship, about falling in love with him, all of it. None of that would happen if Dean was too trigger happy.

"You sure?" Sam asked softly, hoping Dean wasn't so dead set against the Trickster.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Dean said. He looked at Sam like he'd spoken in tongues or something. Maybe Dean had missed what he was asking.

"No, I mean, are you sure you want to kill him?" Sam asked.

"Son of a bitch didn't think twice about icing me," Dean said, "A thousand times."

"No, I know, I-I mean, I'm just saying," Sam said.

"What are you saying?" Dean asked, incredulous, "If you don't want to kill him, then what?"

Sam paused. He could say any of the answers that readily sprang to mind like kissing him or holding him or studying his bright eyes and beautiful smile. Yeah, none of that would go over very well.

"Talk to him?" Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Look, think about it, Dean," Sam said, "He's one of the most powerful creatures we've ever met. Maybe we can use him."

"For what?" Dean asked, looking at Sam skeptically.

Sam took a deep breath. Dean had to be on board with this plan. There was no way they'd be able to stop the apocalypse without him.

"Okay, Trickster's like a-like a Hugh Hefner type, right? Wine, women, song?" Sam said, "Maybe he doesn't want the party to end? I mean, maybe he hates this 'angels and demons' stuff as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us."

"You're serious?" Dean said, maintaining his judgmental expression.

"Yeah."

"Ally with the Trickster."

"Yeah."

"A bloody, violent monster," Dean said, "And you want to be Facebook friends with him? Nice, Sammy."

Well, that settled that. Sam would never, ever tell Dean what was going on between him and the Trickster. His brother would never look at him the same way again.

But they still needed the Trickster's help with the apocalypse.

"The world is gonna end, Dean. We don't have the luxury of a moral stand," Sam said, "I'm just saying, it's worth a shot, that's all. If it doesn't work...we'll kill him."

As Sam said the words, he realized that he'd sooner fight his brother than let him hurt the Trickster.

Dean shook his head in a way that told Sam he was backing down. "How we gonna find the guy anyway?" he asked.

"Well, he never takes one victim, right?" Sam said, "He'll show."

It was a weak lie considering there had only been two cases directly involving the Trickster, and the Mystery Spot had only had one victim. Dean didn't say anything, though, and the flimsy lie was much better than coming clean to Dean about his plan with the Trickster.

An hour later, Dean sat on the edge of his bed sharpening a stake. Sam hated it, but he didn't say anything. His brother would only feel okay about this arrangement if he was armed.

Sam sat by the police radio waiting for the Trickster's signal pretending like he was just listening for a possible lead.

Finally, the hand radio made noise. "Uh, dispatch? I have a possible 187 out here at the old paper mill on Route 6," a voice said.

"Hey," Sam said, getting Dean's attention.

The officer they'd talked to early replied, saying, "Roger that. What are you lookin' at there, son?"

"Honestly, Walt, I wouldn't even know how to describe what I'm seeing. Just...send everybody."

"Alright, stay calm, stay by your car, help's on the way."

"That sounds weird," Dean said.

"Weird enough to be our guy?" Sam asked. He was sure it was, but it was always easier to get Dean on board with a plan if he thought it was his idea.

Dean gave Sam a look that easily said that they should check it out just in case.

The old paper mill wasn't all that far outside of town. They got there in a matter of minutes. No sign of the Trickster, though.

Getting out of the car, Dean said, "There was a murder here, and there's no police cars, there's nobody. How does that look to you?"

Sam looked around and said, "Crappy." Where the hell was the Trickster? What was going on? Dean was right, it did seem like a trap, but the Trickster was on their side now. What was he doing?

Dean popped the trunk to grab some gear to defend themselves. He handed Sam a blood-tipped stake and flashlight, grabbing the same for himself.

Sam checked to make sure the flashlight worked and fought the urge to throw the stake to the ground. He knew he wouldn't be using it.

They approached the door. Dean opened it, and Sam slipped inside.

Some soft music lilted through the air as Sam and Dean faced what looked like the inside of a hospital.

"What the hell?" Dean said. Sam looked at him. Dean was wearing scrubs. And a doctor's coat. The fuck?

Sam looked down, realizing he was wearing the same. What the hell. He knew the Trickster liked to screw with them, but seriously, what the hell.

Two women in scrubs walked past. "Doctor," one of them said. The second one also said, "Doctor."

"Doctor?" Sam said, confused.

Dean opened the door they'd come in to see two people making out in what was now a supply closet. He quickly closed the door looking just as confused as Sam felt.

A small, brunette woman walked up to Sam and said, "Doctor" before slapping him across the face.

"Ow!" he said, stunned.

"Seriously?" she asked.

"What?" he asked.

"Seriously? You're brilliant, you know that? And a coward. You're a brilliant coward."

"Uh, what are you talking about?"

She smacked him again, hard, and said, "As if you don't know." She quickly walked away.

Sam's face stung, and he stared after her perplexed and not a little bit frustrated. He hoped that that wasn't the Trickster. If it was, then he had absolutely no idea why he'd be pissed at Sam.

Dean got a bright look on his face. "I don't believe this," he said.

"What?" Sam asked, irritated.

"That was Dr. Piccolo," Dean said.

"Who?"

"Dr. Ellen Piccolo. The sexy yet earnest doctor at...Seattle Mercy Hospital."

"Uh, Dean?" Sam said, catching up to his brother, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The doctor get-ups. The-the-the sexy interns. The 'seriouslys.' It all makes sense," Dean said.

"What makes sense?" Sam asked, "What's going on?"

Dean said, "We're in 'Dr. Sexy M.D.'"

Sam tried to process what Dean said in a rational, not-insane way, but being in a TV show was stretching the imagination a little too far. He looked around for the Trickster. He had to be around here. He couldn't have just stuck them in a TV show for no reason.

Luckily, Sam only had to endure Dean sharing way too much information about a show that he was supposedly not a fan of for a few minutes before Dean slammed Dr. Sexy up against a wall.

Sam was deeply concerned that his older brother was going to scar him for life again by making out with Dr. Sexy, but luckily, Dean said, "You're not Dr. Sexy."

At first, Sam was relieved that he wouldn't be subjected to more of his brother's lack of modesty, but then he was confused. If Dr. Sexy wasn't Dr. Sexy, then he had to be the Trickster. And that meant that the Trickster really did trap them in TV Land. Maybe the Trickster changed their plan to make it fit his style a bit more.

"You're crazy," Dr. Sexy said.

"Really?" Dean asked, "Because I swore part of what makes Dr. Sexy sexy is the fact that he wears cowboy boots, not tennis shoes."

Did those words really come out of Dean's mouth? Sam didn't miss a beat. "Yeah," he said, "You're not a fan."

"It's a guilty pleasure," Dean snapped.

Dr. Sexy looked down the hall and said, "Call security" in the most obnoxiously nonchalant way Sam had ever heard.

"Yeah, go ahead, pal. See, we know what you are," Dean said.

Suddenly, everyone around them in the hospital froze.

Dr. Sexy morphed into the Trickster and said with a false smile, "You guys are getting better."

Sam's heart thudded in his chest. They had to sell this.

"Get us the hell outta here," Dean said.

The Trickster looked around and asked, "Or what?" He wrenched Dean's arms off of him. "Don't see any wooden stakes, big guy," he said.

"That was you on the police scanner, right? This is a trick," Sam said.

The Trickster looked at Sam over Dean's shoulder. "Helloo, Trickster," he said, pointing to himself.

Sam felt unnerved. The Trickster he knew had stopped looking at him like that a long time ago. But here he was, looking at Sam like he was just another obstacle in his way. Sure, the Trickster was obviously a good actor, but Sam felt the first twinge of fear that this really was a trick.

"C'mon, I heard you two yahoos were in town, how could I resist?" the Trickster said.

Sam tried not to think about the Trickster's hands on his skin, lips and teeth everywhere. This couldn't be a trick. Not a real trick. The Trickster wouldn't hurt him like that.

"Where the hell are we?" Dean asked.

"Like it?" the Trickster said, "It's all homemade." He turned around and rapped his fingers on a window. "My own sets." He gestured to the frozen nurses and doctors around them. "My own actors." He spun around and faced Sam and Dean. "Call it my own little idiot box," he said with a grin.

"How do we get out?" Dean asked.

The Trickster smiled and said, "That, my friend, is the 64 dollar question."

"Whatever," Sam said, trying to get to the point and drown out the thoughts of betrayal buzzing around his head, "We just-we need to talk to you. We need your help." He had to stick to the plan. He had to.

"Hmm, let me guess. You two muttonheads broke the world, and you want me to sweep up your mess," the Trickster said, staring at Sam icily.

"Please," Sam said. Please, let it be a part of the Trickster's act. Please, let it be part of the plan. Please, don't let this be a trick. "Just five minutes," Sam continued, "Hear us out."

The Trickster said a gleeful, "Sure. Tell you what. Survive the next 24 hours. We'll talk."

Sam's stomach dropped. He could hear the darkness behind the Trickster's words. This was a trick.

"Survive what?" Dean asked. Sam didn't care what the answer was. He'd been tricked. Again. But the Trickster was his friend if not something more. What was going on?

"The game," the Trickster said. It was a game. It was all a game to him. Of course it was.

Dean asked, "What game?"

"You're in it," the Trickster said. Sam hoped the Trickster could hear the pain shredding through his chest. He hoped the Trickster knew exactly what this was doing to him.

"How do we play?" Dean asked.

The Trickster said, "You're playing it."

"What are the rules?"

The Trickster bounced his eyebrows in response and disappeared.

Dean said, "Oh, son of a bitch." Honestly, Sam couldn't have agreed more.

Fuck.

To top it all off, the same woman who smacked him earlier tried to smack him again within a few minutes of the Trickster's departure.

"Lady, what the hell?" Sam snapped, dodging her swat at him.

She said, "You are a brilliant, brilliant-"

"Yeah, a coward. You already said that. But I got news for you. I am not a doctor," Sam said.

Dr. Piccolo gasped dramatically and said, "Don't say that. You are the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met, and I have met plenty."

Great. It was definitely the Trickster. Just replace 'cerebrovascular neurosurgeon' with 'human,' and it was a conversation they'd already had.

"So that girl died on your table," Dr. Piccolo said, "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. Sometimes people just die."

Was he talking about Ruby? Or maybe this wasn't the Trickster. Or maybe it was, and he was just trying to drive Sam absolutely insane.

"I have no idea what you're saying to me," Sam said, trying to get some clue as to who he was dealing with here.

"You're afraid," she said, "You're afraid to operate again, and you're afraid to love." She walked down the hall away from them, crying.

What the fuck? It'd be easier to figure out if this was just soap opera drama, or if it was the Trickster trying to talk to him if his real life weren't so damn dramatic.

"Yeah, we're getting out of here," Sam said.

But they weren't getting out of there. The next thing Sam knew, his brother was shot in the back, and he was standing over Dean, calling for a doctor in the middle of a hospital while wearing a lab coat.

And suddenly, they were in an operating room. They didn't walk there, there wasn't a stretcher. Dean wasn't even under anesthesia. It was just like in television. Everything just faded to black and the next scene started. What the actual fuck.

Nurses were handing him scalpels, which Sam had no experience with, and he sure as hell wasn't going to operate on his brother without knowing full well what he was doing, and that crazy doctor who kept slapping him was watching him through the operating room window and crying and nothing made any goddamn sense.

"Sam, do something. Come on," Dean said.

Sam leaned closer to Dean and said, "I don't know how to use any of this crap."

"Figure it out," Dean snapped.

Sam stood back up and tried to pretend that all the nurses around them weren't judging him for clearly not knowing any medicine at all.

"Sam! Come on. I'm waiting," Dean said.

"Okay, umm," Sam said. He could do this. He'd fixed bullet holes before. Maybe if he had- "I need a penknife, some dental floss, a sewing needle, and a fifth of whiskey."

The nursing staff all just stared at him like he'd asked them to throw him a birthday party in the O.R.

"Stat!" Sam said, hoping they'd realize he was serious.

The nurses started bustling around quickly, getting the things he needed. Honestly, Sam was just glad that they weren't just staring at him anymore.

After a quick surgery montage, it looked like Dean was going to be fine. Sam looked up from Dean's back to see that Dr. Piccolo was still watching him through the window.

She mouthed 'I love you' at him.

Sam paused. Was it the Trickster? If it was, why was he doing this? Why was he crying?

She pressed a hand to the window and cried some more.

Sam didn't know how to take any of this. He turned away from the window and the operating table when some weird music started. And clapping.

Clapping?

Sam and Dean found themselves on a stage strapped into weird looking pedestals. And everyone was speaking a foreign language. Japanese?

Someone came out in a very shiny, silver suit and spoke very fast Japanese before saying, "Let's play Nutcracker!"

Sam looked at the podium he was on and out at the audience. What the hell was going on?

"Sam Winchester," the game show host said. He leaned over towards Sam and started reading off a question card in Japanese.

Completely in Japanese.

Sam had no idea what the guy was saying.

"Countdown," the host said, pointing at a timer on Sam's other side.

"What? Uh," Sam said in confusion. He looked at Dean and asked, "What am I supposed to say?"

"You think I know?" Dean asked.

Sam faced the game show host and said, "Uh, I-I don't-I don't understand, uh, Japanese."

The host replied in another string of very fast Japanese.

Sam chuckled nervously and said, "Is he screwing with me?"

Dean gave a confused gesture.

"I-I-I don't speak Japanese," Sam tried again.

A buzzer sounded.

The game show host sighed. A dull roar came from the audience.

The host spoke some more Japanese before saying, "Ruby."

Ruby? What the hell did Ruby have to do with-

"I'm sorry, Sam Winchester," the host said.

"Sorry? Sorry for what?" Sam asked, nervous. He looked over at his brother and said, "Dean?"

Suddenly, the ball at the end of the podium Sam was standing on flew up and hit him in the dick.

Sam doubled over, groaning in pain and seeing stars. Yep, he must've done something to piss off the Trickster. What the hell could he have done? More importantly, how were they going to survive the malice of a pissed off Trickster? But he could barely think about that with the throbbing pain running through his crotch and legs.

"Whoa! Nutcracker!" the host shouted.

Sam groaned. If his feet weren't strapped into the podium, he'd be on his knees in pain.

"Sam?" Dean said.

Sam looked over at his brother and managed a strangled, "Yeah?"

One of the girls on stage called the host over. She was holding what looked like a bag of chips.

Sam placed his hand on the button part of the podium in order to give himself some balance. What the hell? Why would this show exist? Why would the Trickster think up this sort of show? The way Sam remembered it, the Trickster really liked his dick. Why he would start aiming spring loaded balls at Sam's penis was beyond him.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

Sam gave Dean an exasperated look. Did he look okay? He was still doubled over after taking a shot to the nuts.

A loud banging sound came from behind them.

"No what?" Dean asked.

Sam forced himself back upright and turned around the face whatever was coming.

Cas walked through the doors behind them.

"Cas?" Dean said, surprised.

"Is this another trick?" Sam asked, hoping the Trickster would come out and answer him himself.

"It's me," Cas said, "Uh, what are you doing here?"

"Us? What are you doing here?" Dean asked.

Cas said, "Looking for you. You've been missing for days."

"So, get us the hell out of here, then," Sam said. It wasn't like they had the time to chat when the Trickster was running the show.

"Let's go," Cas said, raising his hands to teleport them out.

Before he could do anything, though, Cas disappeared in a flash of television static like the Trickster had earlier.

"Cas?" Dean said, staring at the spot their friend had just stood in.

"No, no, no, no," the game show host said, walking back between Sam and Dean, "Mr. Trickster does not like pretty boy angels."

The host started speaking in Japanese again, and Sam prayed he wouldn't get hit in the crotch again.

"Dean Winchester," the host said.

Sam looked at Dean, worried. Crap. Dean was screwed.

The host asked his question in Japanese again before starting the countdown.

"What do I do?" Dean asked Sam, "What do I do? I don't wanna get hit in the nuts."

Sam stumbled around words for an answer. Honestly, he had no idea how Dean could suddenly learn Japanese. Then again, Sam had no idea how he could suddenly learn how to perform surgery either. "Wait," he said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"I played a doctor," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked again.

Sam said, "In-in Dr. Sexy. I played a doctor. I operated."

"So?" Dean asked.

"So, I played the role the Trickster wanted me to play," Sam said, "Maybe we just have to go along with it."

"Go along with what?"

"The game. I mean, we're on a game show, right? So just answer the question."

"In Japanese?"

"Yeah!"

"I don't know Japanese!"

"Try!"

"Damn it!"

Dean pressed the button on his podium just as the buzzer sounded.

Silence filled the set.

The host looked at Dean.

Dean spoke Japanese.

Holy shit.

The host asked Dean something, and Dean replied in Japanese again. Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean, but Dean looked as shocked and confused as Sam felt.

The host said some more Japanese, and Dean braced himself for the hit to the balls, when the host shouted, "Dean Winchester! Nutcracker champion!" He threw his cue cards to the ground and bowed as lights and music flooded the stage.

"How did you do that?" Sam asked.

Dean smiled and said, "I have no idea."

"So, that's it," Sam said, "We play our roles, we survive."

"Yeah, play our roles for how long?" Dean asked.

Sam swallowed nervously and said, "Good question."

Sam hoped it wouldn't be too long. Now that he knew what the Trickster wanted from them, he hoped this was all just part of the Trickster's plan. He really, truly hoped that this was all just set up to agreeing to help them with the apocalypse. He'd gladly take a hundred more nut-shots if it meant getting some help against the Devil.

After a fade to black, Sam found himself on a basketball court with Dean and a few other guys. He could hear other people talking about genital herpes. He knew his part was coming up. But why? Why would the Trickster make this his part? If the Trickster had given him genital herpes, so help him-

Sam sunk a basket and turned to face where the camera was supposed to be. "Seriously?" he said.

Dean jogged over and said, "Hey, you're the one who said play our roles, so." He pointed towards the camera.

"Yeah, right," Sam said, still very reluctant to do this.

Dean patted Sam's shoulder and resumed playing basketball with the random guys.

Sam said to the camera very, very haltingly, "I've got genital herpes."

The others said lines before Sam had to say, "But now I take twice daily Herpexia to reduce my chances of passing it on."

He was going to kill the Trickster for this. He really was going to kill him. A herpes commercial? Really?

Dean started a voice over, saying, "Patients should always consult with a physician before using Herpexia. Possible side effects include headache, diarrhea, permanent erectile dysfunction, thoughts of suicide, and nausea."

Sam took a deep, irritated breath. He said, "I am doing all I can to slightly lessen the spread of-of...genital herpes. And that's a good thing." He tried to force a smile before heading back to playing basketball.

"We now return to 'Supernatural.'"

Dean turned towards the camera, like he was supposed to, and gave a comically timed, "Son of a bitch."

The audience laughed in the most forced, fake way Sam had ever heard.

Sam gave Dean an emphatically disappointed look before crossing the set to the gorgeous girl who had just stepped out of the bathroom in a bikini and heels. "I am really, really, very sorry," he said, "But we've got some work to do."

"But we did do work," the girl said, smiling at Dean, "In depth."

The audience really seemed to like that one.

The girl left with a wave, and Sam closed the door behind her.

"How long do we have to keep doing this?" Dean asked, still smiling for the audience.

"I don't know," Sam said, facing the audience with a phony grin, "Maybe forever? We might die in here."

The audience laughed.

"How is that funny?" Dean asked, dropping his smile, "Vultures."

Cas walked through the door with a cut and dried blood across his nose and some bruises sprinkled about his face.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

"I don't have much time," Cas said.

Sam asked, "What happened?"

"I got out," Cas said.

"From where?" Dean asked.

"Listen to me," Cas said, "Something is not right. This thing is way more powerful than it should be."

"What thing?" Dean asked, "The Trickster?"

"If it is a Trickster," Cas said.

Sam asked quickly, "What do you mean?"

Before Cas could say anything, he got flung back against the wall by an invisible force.

The door swung open, and the Trickster hopped through with a bright, "Hello!"

This had to be it. This had to be the end of the trick. This was when the Trickster would agree to help them stop the Devil.

The audience erupted in cheers and applause.

"Thank you," the Trickster said, waving to the audience he'd created, "Thank you. Please, stop."

Cas turned towards the Trickster with duct tape magically covering his mouth.

"Hi, Castiel!" the Trickster said with a grin.

Cas looked from the Trickster to Sam and to Dean.

The Trickster waved his hand and made Cas disappear again.

Sam quickly asked, "You know him?" to cover for the fact that they weren't supposed to have run into the Trickster since the Mystery Spot, which was long before Castiel came into their lives.

Not that Dean noticed anyway. Dean angrily asked, "Where did you just send him?"

The Trickster said, "Relax. He'll live. Maybe."

The audience thought that was hilarious, which only served to make Dean more angry and Sam a bit more wary.

"Alright, you know what?" Dean said, stepping around Sam and moving between him and the Trickster, "I'm done with the monkey dance, 'kay? We get it."

"Yeah? Get what, hotshot?" the Trickster asked.

"Playing our roles, right? That's your game?" Dean said.

"That's half the game," the Trickster said.

Sam asked, "What's the other half?"

"Play your roles out there," the Trickster said, looking at Sam.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked.

"You know," the Trickster said, "Sam starring as Lucifer, Dean starring as Michael. Your celebrity death match. Play your roles."

Sam's heart thudded painfully in his chest. "You want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?" he asked.

"Hells yeah, let's light this candle," the Trickster said, grinning.

"We do that, the world will end," Sam said.

The Trickster fixed Sam with an icy gaze and a bright smile, "Yeah? And whose fault is that?"

Sam swallowed and looked at his friend, confused and hurt. He couldn't mean that. Not after all they'd been through. He couldn't.

"Who popped Lucifer out of the box, hmm?" the Trickster said, "Look, it's started. You started it. It can't be stopped, so let's get it over with."

Sam clenched his jaw. This was just like with Ruby all over again. When would he learn to stop trusting these supernatural assholes? Demon? Demigod? It didn't matter. They all just wanted to use and manipulate him to end the freaking world. This was the last straw.

"Heaven or Hell, which side you on?" Dean asked.

"I'm not on either side," the Trickster said.

"Yeah, right," Dean said, "You're grabbing ankle for Michael or Lucifer. Which one is it?"

"You listen to me you arrogant dick," the Trickster said, stepping closer to Dean, "I don't work for either of those SOBs, believe me."

"Hmm. Oh, you're somebody's bitch," Dean said.

The Trickster dropped his smile and grabbed Dean shirt roughly, slamming him into the wall. "Don't you ever, ever presume to know what I am," he hissed.

Sam faltered. There was pain in those words, a pain Sam desperately wanted to help heal. But that didn't excuse the pain the Trickster had caused. It didn't do anything to soothe the ache of betrayal Sam felt in his chest.

The Trickster turned to Sam and said, "Now, listen to me very closely. Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play the roles that destiny has chosen for you."

"And if we don't?" Sam asked.

"Then, you'll stay here in TV Land," the Trickster said, "Forever."

Sam looked at the Trickster knowing full well that all the hurt he felt was written all over his face. He'd trusted the Trickster. He'd talked with him. He'd been friends with him, lovers. He'd opened up to him, told him things he'd never told anyone else. And this is what he got in return. Really, why had Sam expected anything more?

The Trickster didn't reply to the thoughts Sam knew he'd heard. Instead, the demigod said, "300 channels and, uh, nothing's on." He snapped his fingers.

Sam and Dean were outside. It was dark. Cameras flashed over the dried blood of a corpse. Cops and a medical examiner's team swarmed a new crime scene. Sam and Dean were wearing suits. Dramatic music played in the background.

Dean and Sam turned away from the police tape.

"Oh, come on," Dean said.

"So," a guy said, coming up to them, "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" Dean asked, "I think go screw yourself. That's what I think."

"Uh, could you give us a sec, please? Thanks," Sam said. He turned to Dean and said quietly, "You need to calm down."

"Calm down?" Dean snapped, "I am wearing sunglasses at night. You know who does that? No-talent douchebags. I hate this game. I hate that we're in a procedural cop show. And you wanna know why? Because I hate procedural cop shows. There's like 300 of em on television. They're all the freakin' same. It's 'ooh, a plane crashed here' oh, shut up!"

Sam looked over at the crime scene to make sure that Dean's little rant didn't draw too much attention, and sure enough, the guy he'd just sent away was sucking on a lollipop. Bingo.

"Hey," Sam said, stopping Dean from continuing his tirade about procedural cop dramas.

"What?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded towards the crime scene and said, "Check out sweet tooth over there."

Dean asked, "Think that's him?"

Sam wasn't at all sure, but he had kind of spelled out the Trickster giveaways to the guy earlier. The Trickster wouldn't be so careless as to give himself away so easily. But maybe, if he was lucky enough, he'd be able to trick the Trickster.

"Just, uh, follow my lead," Sam said to Dean.

Sam headed towards the crime scene slowly, strutting over like he knew exactly what he was doing. Dean followed suit. They put their sunglasses back on and walked up to the corpse like two of the coolest detectives that ever graced a television.

Mr. Sweet Tooth stood by the body when Sam and Dean approached. "You, uh, you okay?"

Dean said in a gravelly, aloof voice, "Yeah. What do we got?" He looked away dramatically.

"Well, aside from the ligature marks around his neck, he has what appears to be a roll of quarters jammed down his throat," the guy said.

Sam removed his sunglasses with an exaggerated motion. "Well, I say," he said in a low voice, "Jackpot."

The guy chuckled and said, "Also, there was a stab wound to the lower abdomen there."

Dean grabbed a large stick and lifted up the bloody part of the shirt with it. Sam was glad they were on the same page.

Dean said, "Well, I say...no guts, no glory." He put his sunglasses back on and looked off into the distance.

Sam said, "Get that guy a...tums."

"Gutter ball," Dean said.

The guy took the lollipop out of his mouth and laughed. "That's a good one guys," he said.

The guy turned around to face Dean who jammed the blood-tipped stick through the guy's chest and straight into his still-beating heart.

Dean pulled out the makeshift stake. Blood oozed out of the gaping hole.

The guy fell to the ground, choking on his own blood. Sam used the cover of the guy gagging to follow through the second part of his plan. It was always good to have some insurance. Walking a few feet off, he grabbed a jagged, broken log that he'd seen while looking off dramatically as per his role.

A man behind Dean started laughing. Sam slipped behind the crime scene and got around behind the guy.

Dean turned around as the guy morphed into the Trickster they knew.

"You got the wrong guy, idiot," the Trickster said.

Dean asked, "Did we?"

Sam came up behind the Trickster and slammed the jagged log through the Trickster's chest. He didn't even hesitate. Part of him ached with the thought of having killed the Trickster, but that part was in so much pain from knowing the Trickster was trying to start the apocalypse that Sam didn't pay much notice to it.

The Trickster dropped to the ground, dead. Suddenly, Sam and Dean were back in the warehouse that they thought they'd entered to begin with. It must've worked. It must've been over. The Trickster must have actually died.

Sam tried not to think about it too much, he was just happy to get out of TV Land.

The next morning in the motel, Sam wasn't quite sure where he was. Everything was dark. Was he dreaming? He heard the sound of the Impala's door open and close.

"Where did you go?" Dean was saying.

Sam asked, "Dean?"

"Sam?" Dean asked, "Where are you?"

"I don't know," Sam said. His voice sounded metallic, sounded like...a radio. "Oh crap," he said, "I don't think we killed the Trickster." Of all the things the Trickster had done to him, turning him into a car? His brother's car specifically? Seriously, what the hell?

After a fun Knight Rider montage where Sam really didn't know how to feel about being Kit, Dean said, "Okay, stake didn't work. So, what? This another trick?"

"I don't know," Sam said, "Maybe the stake didn't work, because it's not a Trickster?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"I mean, you heard Cas. He said this thing was too powerful to be a Trickster," Sam said.

"Yeah," Dean said, "And did you notice the way he looked at Cas? Almost like he knew him."

The Trickster knew Cas through Sam, but what if the Trickster knew him from before? Maybe there was another reason the Trickster was so afraid of angels.

"And how pissed he got when you brought up Michael and Lucifer," Sam said.

"Son of a bitch," Dean said.

Sam asked, "What?"

"I think I know what we're dealing with," Dean said.

They continued down the road through another short Knight Rider themed scene transition.

They were parked at the Centennial Point Wilderness Area. Dean rummaged around in the trunk, putting the holy oil back in its place.

"Dean?" Sam said.

Dean asked, "What?"

"That, um, feels really uncomfortable," Sam said. He couldn't actually feel what Dean was doing, but the idea of Dean being anywhere near his back end while he was car or not was more nauseating than anything.

Dean slammed the trunk, and it actually kind of hurt.

"Ow," Sam said. How had that hurt? He was a car. The Impala didn't have nerve endings. God, this was too weird. "You sure this is gonna work?" he asked Dean.

Dean said, "No, but I have no other ideas." He shouted out, "Alright you son of a bitch. Uncle! We'll do it."

"Should I honk?" Sam asked.

The Tricksters voice reached Sam's ears. Did he even have ears while he was like this? "Wow. Sam, get a load of the rims on you," the Trickster said.

"Eat me," Sam said quickly.

The Trickster whistled before saying, "Okay, boys. Ready to go quietly?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast," Dean said, "Nobody's going anywhere until Sam has opposable thumbs."

"What's the difference? Satan's gonna ride his ass one way or another," the Trickster said.

Sam heard a sigh and a snap before he was sitting shotgun in the Impala back to being his normal self. He got out of the car and fixed the Trickster with a pained stare. It didn't matter that they were out of TV Land. It didn't matter that Sam wasn't a car anymore. The Trickster still betrayed Sam's trust in the worst way.

"Happy?" the Trickster asked.

Sam didn't bother saying a damn thing. He closed the door to the Impala.

"Tell me one thing," Dean said, "Why didn't the stake kill you?"

"I am the Trickster," the Trickster said like that explained anything.

Sam flicked open his lighter.

"But maybe you're not," Dean said.

Sam dropped the flame on the circle of holy oil Dean had poured. The flames encircled the Trickster immediately.

"Maybe you've always been an angel," Dean said.

The Trickster laughed. "A what?!" he asked. He said it like it was the most ridiculous, idiotic suggestion he'd ever heard. "Somebody slip a mickey in your power shake, kid?" he asked.

"I'll tell you what," Dean said, "Just jump out of the holy fire, and we'll call it our mistake."

Sam just stared down the Trickster. How could he have lied to him for so long? This was why letting people close was a bad idea. There was always a catch. He'd been worried about the Trickster getting hurt if they got too close. He'd been worried about his feelings for the Trickster getting the guy killed. But this? This wasn't something Sam had seen coming. After Ruby, Sam should've known better.

The Trickster laughed and looked away. He laughed like he was going to say something to shrug off the angel thing again.

But he stopped. He looked at Sam and the facade dropped. The Trickster's ever present smile vanished. The Trickster looked at Sam in a way that Sam had only seen a few times, and that was when the Trickster was being very serious and deadly honest. It was the way that he'd looked at Sam when he told him he was in love with him.

And if that didn't hurt like hell...

The Trickster shifted their surroundings, leaving the three of them standing in the actual warehouse from the beginning of this whole nightmare.

The Trickster clapped his hands together, applauding them slowly. He said, "Well played, boys. Well played. Where'd you get the holy oil?"

Sam stared at the Trickster. The Trickster was an angel. Holy fuck.

Dean said, "Oh, you might say we pulled it out of Sam's ass."

Sam glanced at Dean. Really? Now was the time for that shit? Really?

"Where'd I screw up?" the Trickster asked.

"You didn't," Sam said, "But nobody gets the jump on Cas like you did."

Dean said, "Mostly, it was the way you talked about Armageddon."

"Meaning?" the Trickster asked.

"Well, call it personal experience," Dean said, "Nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about their own family."

Sam said, "So, which one are you? Grumpy, Sneezey, or Douchey?" Sass aside, Sam had wanted to know the Trickster's name for a long time. He didn't think it would take a ring of holy fire to figure it out, and he never wanted to have it be under any of these circumstances, but Sam still really wanted to know.

The Trickster's gaze flicked to Sam. There was a tired, sad sort of defeat behind his stoic expression. "Gabriel, okay?" he said, "They call me Gabriel."

Sam said, "Gabriel. The archangel?"

"Guilty," Gabriel said.

Sam didn't know what to think. He wasn't entirely sure what his brain was doing at that moment. Gabriel. The Trickster was one of the most famous archangels ever. How? Why? What? God, he'd had sex with an archangel.

"Okay, Gabriel. How does an archangel become a Trickster?" Dean asked.

"My own private witness protection," Gabriel said, "I skipped out of Heaven, had a face transplant, carved out my own little corner of the world...till you two screwed it all up."

"And what did Daddy say when ran off and joined the pagans?" Dean asked.

Gabriel said quickly, "Daddy doesn't say anything about anything."

"Then, what happened?" Sam asked, "Why'd you ditch?"

"Well, do you blame him?" Dean asked, "I mean, his brothers are heavyweight douche-nozzles."

Gabriel snapped, "Shut your cake hole. You don't know anything about my family. I loved my father, my brothers. Loved them. But watching them turn on each other? Tear at each other's throats? I couldn't bear it, okay?!"

Sam was pissed as hell at Gabriel. If he ever saw that archangel again, it would be too soon. But right then, hearing Gabriel's voice crack ever so slightly over his words, realizing just how much pain he was in...all Sam really wanted to do was hold him.

"So I left," Gabriel said, "And now it's happening all over again."

"Then help us stop it," Sam said.

Gabriel faced Sam and said evenly, "It can't be stopped."

"You want to see the end of the world?" Dean asked.

Gabriel shouted at Dean, "I want it to be over! I have to sit back and watch my own brothers kill each other thanks to you two. Heaven, Hell, I don't care who wins. I just want it to be over!"

"Well, it doesn't have to be like that," Sam tried, "There has to be some way to-to pull the plug."

Gabriel laughed and said, "Oh, you do not know my family. What you guys call the apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner. That's why there's no stopping this, because this isn't about a war. It's about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other. You think you'd be able to relate."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

Gabriel looked between Sam and Dean. He clicked his tongue and whistled. "You sorry sons of bitches," he said, "Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father. And Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of daddy's plan."

Sam nearly flinched. He hated this. He hated all of this. But seeing Gabriel looking at him like that, practically addressing him as Lucifer, it was too much.

Gabriel continued, "You were born to this, boys! It's your destiny! It was always you! As it is in Heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other."

"What the hell are you saying?" Dean asked.

"Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you?" Gabriel asked, looking at Sam for a long moment before returning to Dean, "Because from the moment Dad flipped on the light around here, we knew it was always gonna end with you."

Sam closed his eyes for a moment before staring back at Gabriel.

Gabriel met his gaze and said softly, "Always."

Sam looked away. Gabriel had known all along that there was no way out. He knew from the second they'd met at that college in Crawford Hall that Sam and Dean were going to start the end of the world. He knew this whole time and said nothing, did nothing to stop any of it. Sam wished he'd never met the Trickster to begin with.

Dean took a deep breath before saying, "No."

Gabriel's intense stare was dragged away from Sam's face.

"That's not gonna happen," Dean said.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel said, "But it is." The archangel looked away for a moment, and his expression softened. For a split second, Sam thought Gabriel might cry. Gabriel faced Sam. "Guys, I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, ending wrapped up in a bow, but this is real, and it's gonna end bloody for all of us. That's just how it's gotta be."

Sam looked at Dean. There had to be a way out of this. But an archangel, a freaking archangel, was telling them what everyone else was telling them. There was no stopping this. But there had to be.

What the hell were they going to do?

"So, boys," Gabriel said, "Now what? Stare at each other for the rest of eternity?"

"Well, first of all, you're gonna bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him," Dean said.

"Oh, am I?" Gabriel said, challenge dripping from every word.

"Yeah," Dean said, "Or we are gonna dunk you in some holy oil and deep fry ourselves an archangel."

Gabriel looked over at Sam as if to see who he would side with. Sam's eyebrows knit together. What kind of question was that? Sam obviously would side with the guy who hadn't lied to him about everything for years.

Gabriel looked back at Dean and angrily snapped his fingers.

Cas appeared behind them, panting.

"Cas, you okay?" Dean asked.

"I'm fine," Cas said, "Hello, Gabriel."

"Hey, bro," Gabriel said with a grin, "How's the search for Daddy going? Let me guess, awful."

Cas looked at Gabriel like he'd smacked him.

After Gabriel made a couple of faces at Cas, Dean said, "Okay, we're out of here."

Sam didn't move. He had so many things to say to Gabriel. He had so many things to yell and scream at him.

"Come on, Sam," Dean said, backing away from the holy fire.

Sam looked at Gabriel and hoped the archangel felt every single pained, angry thought in his head. He hoped Gabriel could hear the never ending loop of "how could you" that flew screaming through his mind.

Sam took a step backwards to follow Dean and Cas.

Gabriel said, "Um, okay. Hey. Guys? So-so what? Huh? You're just gonna-you're gonna leave me here forever?"

"No, we're not," Dean said, "'Cause we don't screw with people the way you do." He faced Gabriel head on and took a step away from the door. He said, "And for the record, this isn't about some prizefight between your brothers or some destiny that can't be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family!"

Gabriel looked like he'd been slapped across the face. At this point, Sam really didn't think he deserved any better.

Dean broke some safety glass and pulled the fire alarm. Water rained down fro the sprinkler system onto Gabriel and the holy fire around him.

"Don't say I never did anything for you," Dean said.

Sam regarded the archangel being slowly drenched. How could he have done this? How could he have meant so much to Sam so recently and still done this? Part of Sam wanted to kill him. There was also a very substantial part of Sam that wanted to walk right through that holy fire and hold onto the angel. He wanted to kiss him and beg him to help them anyway, to put all the other stuff aside and just be with him before the world ended.

Sam knew right then that he still loved Gabriel. But it didn't matter. Gabriel had chosen which side he was on, and it wasn't Sam's. It didn't matter how Sam felt or how Gabriel had claimed he felt.

Sam followed Dean out of the warehouse without hesitation.


	13. Dark Side of the Moon

Gabriel couldn't find Sam. He was going to destroy Castiel for those damn cloaking sigils.

Well, actually, Sam's ribs were probably the only reason Lucifer hadn't found him yet.

So, maybe he should kiss Cas for them instead.

But right now, Gabriel definitely wanted to kill him.

He needed to find Sam. To what? Apologize? For telling them the truth? Well, maybe he'd been a bit harsh about it. And maybe forcing them to quit stalling wasn't the right idea. But Michael was right, wasn't he?

But he needed to find Sam. He needed to try and fix this. Somehow. He'd heard every jagged thought in that boy's head. He needed to fix what he'd done.

But he couldn't find Sam. It had been weeks since the TV Land stunt, and he still couldn't fucking find Sam.

So, Gabriel was back to wanting to murder Castiel in the slowest, most painful way he could think of.

But then, a miracle happened.

Gabriel felt Sam. It didn't feel like how he'd normally sense him, like a tether to the human in the back of his mind. No, it felt more like a tug on his grace itself. It was so strange. Of all the years of his existence, he'd never felt anything like it. His grace seemed to pull him towards Sam like he was being summoned. But he'd been summoned before. This was different. Gabriel really wanted to understand what was causing this sensation, and why it was happening.

But he needed to talk to Sam. That took priority over anything else.

Gabriel appeared in Sam's dream without a second thought.

Blood. Blood ran through the streets of the rainy town Gabriel found himself in. The blood gathered in the gutters and ran down the buildings. And Sam stood in the middle of the street, the blood covering everything running directly from his own veins.

Jesus.

Gabriel snapped his fingers and took them to a beach.

Sam didn't turn around to face him. He just said, "Leave. Please."

"Sam, let me explain," Gabriel said.

Sam faced Gabriel and said, "Explain what? You don't have to explain. I don't want to hear another monologue about how easy I am to manipulate. I'm tired. Just let me dream in peace."

"Oh, because your dream was so cheery?" Gabriel said.

Sam snapped, "And whose fault is that?"

Gabriel swallowed at hearing his own words. Yeah. He'd been a bit harsh. "I'm sorry, kiddo," he said.

Sam laughed darkly, anger bubbling through the sound. "Oh, are you?" he said, "I love you, but you'd rather watch me be destroyed and end the whole goddamn world instead of just trying to help us. Sorry doesn't exactly cut it, Gabriel."

Gabriel flinched at his name. Sam spat it like a curse. It stung like one, too.

"Sam, I'd die for you," Gabriel said.

Sam huffed and said, "Funny. That wasn't quite the feeling I got when you threatened to keep us in TV Land unless we started the apocalypse."

"The apocalypse has already started, Sam," Gabriel said, "People are dying."

"You think I don't know that?" Sam said, words twisting into snarl.

Gabriel sighed and said, "If there was a way I could help, I would."

"Help us anyway," Sam said quickly, "Help us look through lore, find some answer that hasn't been thought of. There has to be some way to fix this."

Gabriel took a step towards Sam and said softly, "Sam, there isn't an answer. No amount of digging is going to stop this."

Sam glared at Gabriel. "What happened?" he asked, "You promised to help us not that long ago, and God, I was dumb enough to believe you. Was this your end game the whole time? Were you always just working for Heaven? Were you just getting close to me for kicks?"

"No. No, I never- I mean, I've always been an archangel, but I never meant for any of this to happen," Gabriel said. He reached for one of Sam's hands, but Sam back away quickly. Gabriel tried not to show Sam how much that small rejection stung. "I never wanted to hurt you," he said.

"Then, why didn't you tell me?" Sam shouted.

"Tell you what?" Gabriel asked.

Sam turned away for a moment, fuming. He faced Gabriel again as the sky above their quiet beach dreamscape turned dark and ominous.

Gabriel tried to pretend that the hurt he caused Sam wasn't the reason for the weather change, but it was Sam's dream, and the truth was inescapable.

"Everything," Sam snapped, "You knew I was Lucifer's vessel, you knew Lilith was the final seal, you knew I had demon blood in my veins. You knew everything, and you never told me any of it. You just let it all happen!"

Gabriel tried not to flinch, but he couldn't help it. "Sam, I-" he started.

"Save it," Sam said.

"Let me explain myself, Sam, okay?" Gabriel said.

Sam leveled a hard, angry stare at Gabriel but clenched his jaw and waited for the archangel to talk.

"Yes, I knew you and Dean were gonna start the crazy train. That's why I met you at Crawford Hall. I wanted to see how good you guys were, if you guys were prepared for the shit headed your way. That's why I did what I did at the Mystery Spot, because if you dealt with Dean's death okay maybe you wouldn't follow your destiny so fast. I tried to get you to stop with the demon blood, I tried to warn you about Ruby, but I couldn't get too involved once Cas showed up. If Heaven got wind of the fact that I was alive, they would've used me as a weapon. They would've made me torture you into saying yes to Lucifer. They would've-"

Sam cut him off. "They would've made you do what you just did to me and Dean?" he asked angrily.

Gabriel stopped, staring at Sam in shock. He was right. Gabriel had tortured Sam. Gabriel had done exactly what Heaven would've wanted him to do. He'd done exactly what Michael wanted. He dropped his gaze to his shaking hands. What had he done?

"Sam, I'm so sorry," Gabriel said, "Michael talked to me, and he made sense. I thought I was doing the right thing."

Sam shook his head in frustrated disbelief. "I don't care how many times you apologize, Gabriel. I can't forgive you for this one. I won't," he said.

"I'll help," Gabriel said quickly, "I'll help with the apocalypse. I swear I will. I don't know how, but I'll try everything."

Sam's lip quivered for a fraction of a second before he averted his gaze. "I'm not falling for it this time," he said.

"I'm not lying," Gabriel said, grabbing Sam's arms, hoping he'd feel his sincerity, "I'll help. I'll search for a way out. I promise."

Sam shook Gabriel off and said, "I can't trust you anymore."

"Sam, please," Gabriel said, well aware of the crack in his voice.

Sam turned away from the archangel.

"I will do anything and everything to keep you safe. I will fight Lucifer himself for you. No one will ever hurt you again, especially me. I love you, kiddo," Gabriel said.

Sam turned back towards Gabriel quickly. He walked over to the shorter man and cupped Gabriel's face in his hands. A few tears escaped Sam's eyes.

Gabriel could feel Sam's heart breaking. He could feel it in his grace. Sam's thoughts weren't coherent enough to understand, but Gabriel could feel the jagged edges of the pain in Sam's head.

Sam pressed a shaky kiss to Gabriel's lips.

He pulled away before Gabriel had a chance to respond in kind.

"I love you," Sam said evenly, "But I can't handle the lies. I don't know whose side you're on, and I just can't deal with that, not when the world's at stake. We're done. Whatever we had between us is over. If I ever see you again in real life, in my dreams, whatever, I will find a way to kill you. And I won't stop until you breathe your last breath."

Gabriel inhaled sharply as Sam's words sunk in. "Sam," he tried.

"Get out of my head, Gabriel," Sam snapped, "I'm giving you a chance to leave without me coming after you. I suggest you take it."

Gabriel reached towards Sam, but Sam wouldn't let his hand find purchase.

"Now, Trickster," Sam said, voice sharp.

Gabriel left. He returned to his own consciousness and collapsed to the floor of his temporary apartment. His chest felt like it'd been ripped open. He ached. Sam. Gabriel's thoughts snarled and ripped around him. He deserved this. He'd done something unspeakable to Sam, and he deserved the Winchester's wrath for it. But it hurt. It hurt so, so much. And Gabriel knew that Sam would be the only salve for this kind of hurt.

And if that didn't make everything worse.

Gabriel had to do something. He had to. But what? Rewind time so that Gabriel actually helped the Winchesters instead of sticking them in Dr. Sexy M.D.? That was certainly an option, but it wouldn't erase Gabriel's memory of what had just happened.

But he couldn't leave things like this. There had to be something he could do.

Gabriel got back to his feet. He could do something. He could help.

For the first time in several millennia, Gabriel went back to Heaven.

He took a step into the white halls between the humans' heavens and knew he would tear this whole place down if it meant saving Sam.

Right away, an angel stood before him. "G-Gabriel?" the angel stammered.

"Zachariah," Gabriel said evenly.

"Michael requests your presence immediately," Zachariah said, careful to avoid eye contact.

"My brother is not why I'm here," Gabriel said, "Now, it's been lovely to see you, but I must be on my way."

"Michael has ordered me to take you to him by force if necessary," Zachariah said.

Gabriel laughed and took a step towards Zachariah, invading the angel's personal space. "Michael thinks you can force me to do anything? I may have been gone a while, but I am still an archangel, Zach. I would just love to see you try."

Zachariah visibly paled.

Gabriel said, "Just tell him that you couldn't find me, and that you got word that the Winchesters are in Tulsa, Oklahoma."

Zachariah gave Gabriel a confused look. "Are they in Tulsa?" he asked.

"Who knows? But at least this way Michael will have some time to cool down before you get back," Gabriel said.

Quickly, Gabriel flew to his intended destination. The garden.

"Joshua," Gabriel called, walking through Eden's tropical trees.

A quiet angel calmly walked out from a dense grove of trees. "Gabriel," he said with pleasant surprise, "I haven't seen you here in quite some time."

Gabriel gave Joshua a small smile. "I'd love to catch up, but I have something rather important to talk to you about," he said.

Joshua folded his hands across his chest and nodded for Gabriel to proceed.

"I know you used to talk to our Father," Gabriel said.

"Yes, I speak with him," Joshua said, "Quite regularly, in fact."

"You don't have to pretend with me, I know he's gone," Gabriel said, "I just need to know if there's something I can do to stop what's going on with Lucifer and Michael. I know it's His plan, but I know there's something we're missing."

Joshua smiled gently. "Gabriel, God is not gone," he said, "He is on Earth."

"I would've felt him," Gabriel said quickly.

Joshua shook his head. "Don't underestimate Him. Hiding on Earth is much easier than it looks. You should know that yourself."

"Fine. Dad's downstairs. But did he ever mention to you any way this whole mess can be averted?" Gabriel asked.

Joshua closed his eyes and said, "Your Father has a message for you."

Gabriel froze.

"He says that there is a way," Joshua said, "He says your brother can be contained again. The cage is still intact."

"How do I reopen the cage?" Gabriel asked.

Joshua shook his head and said, "You do not open it. You have another task. You must help the Winchesters find the key. He says you are The Messenger, and if you do not perform your duty and guide them, the world will be lost to your brothers' war."

"There's a key?" Gabriel asked, confused as all hell.

Joshua looked at Gabriel like he knew much more than he was telling, "There are keys. Four of them, one was granted to each Horseman."

"The rings," Gabriel breathed, "Holy shit."

Joshua said, "Your Father requests that you keep the blasphemy to a minimum while actually in Heaven. Also, He wants you to know that He is proud of you and approves of the lengths you have gone to for Sam Winchester."

Gabriel gave a sideways glance to Joshua and said, "You made that last part up."

Joshua grinned widely and vanished.

Gabriel shook his head but secretly felt warmed by the idea that Dad was out there and that He might be proud of him.

Suddenly, Joshua returned with Sam and Dean in tow. It was now Gabriel's turn to pull a disappearing act. Eden shifted into a different garden, a small glass domed garden. The one in Cleveland?

How the heck did Sam and Dean wind up in Heaven? Why hadn't Gabriel felt Sam? He felt him now, clear as day. What was going on?

Evidently, it was interrogate-Joshua-about-God day in the garden. Dean and Sam were hoping for God's help.

Gabriel tried desperately not to look at Sam, not to think about the last things Sam had said to him. Quickly, Joshua ushered the brothers back to life without giving them much in the way of answers, and honestly, the things he'd said to them just left Gabriel with more questions.

Gabriel made himself visible. "Joshua," he said softly.

Joshua sighed and turned to Gabriel. "You have a lot of questions today," he said.

"Well, I only had one until you talked to the boys. Why'd you tell them that God put them on the plane? That was me. I mean, I didn't save Cas' ass or get the guys through the pearly gates, but the plane was definitely me," Gabriel said.

Joshua smiled and asked, "Have you ever managed to transport two people onto a moving plane miles above the earth and somehow have them land unharmed in two magically empty seats while outrunning Lucifer?"

"Well, I mean, it was just the once, but-"

"It worked, because God helped you. He wanted you to help the Winchesters, and he knew you couldn't manage that all on your own."

"Okay," Gabriel said, trying to swallow that information, "Well, why didn't you tell them about the rings being the keys to the cage? You told me just fine."

Joshua said, "Gabriel, why does your grace now let you connect to Sam? This is part of your Father's plan. You are meant to give them the information, not me. You are meant to help the Winchesters, so God gave you a way to find Sam despite the defenses Castiel gave him. This is your part to play."

"Dad wants me to go against the apocalypse and help the Winchesters while giving me a way to connect only to Sam? Wouldn't it be more useful for me to be able to find both of the Winchesters?" Gabriel asked.

Joshua chuckled. "If you had a way to sense Dean, would you ever even use it?" he asked, "My opinion is that your Father linked your grace to Sam's soul, because he knows how you feel about each other, and like I said, God approves of the lengths you've gone for Sam. But I can't honestly tell you. Your Father works in mysterious ways."

Gabriel sighed and said, "That's great and all, but Sam wants absolutely nothing to do with me."

Joshua smiled. "But you'll help them anyway," he said, "Now, go before it's too late. Time flies much faster on Earth. The apocalypse won't stop itself."

Joshua was right; Gabriel had a job to do. He raced out of Heaven, blowing through the garrison of angels Michael had sent for him, and followed the pull of his grace to where Sam was.

But something else caught his radar, and Gabriel skittered to a stop outside of a small hotel. Rain was crashing down on the asphalt. The storm wasn't natural. There was a lot of supernatural power coming from that building. Gabriel snapped his fingers and cleared the skies over the hotel, drying himself off in the process. What was going on in there? Why was Sam in there with so many supernatural creatures? Gabriel could feel them, knew some of them just by the power they were emitting. Odin, Ganesha, Mercury.

Kali.

Shit.

Gabriel walked in through the front doors of the Elysian Fields hotel without a moment's hesitation.


	14. Hammer of the Gods (Part 1)

"Alright, out with it," Dean said, looking over at Sam in the passenger seat.

Sam stopped staring out the window long enough to give Dean a confused look.

"You've been acting like someone hit your dog for weeks now," Dean said, "What's eating you?"

"It's nothing," Sam said with a sigh. He knew very well that that wasn't true. He knew what was getting under his skin. It was the Trickster...Gabriel...whatever. He knew it was stupid to still be upset over everything. Betrayal was betrayal, end of story. It wasn't like he shouldn't have expected it, he just didn't think it would hurt so much. So maybe he was a little more moody than usual. Given the current situation with the end of the world, Sam felt entitled to being a little moody.

"Nothing," Dean said skeptically, "Right."

Sam rolled his eyes. He was not going to talk to Dean about his broken heart over a creature that he had no business affiliating himself with in the first place.

Rain pelted the windshield as they drove. Dean talked over the roar of the downpour. "You know, brooding about it isn't gonna do anyone any good," he said.

Sam gave Dean a look. Yeah, like his brother was one to talk. Dean wasn't exactly a model of perfection communication.

The windshield wipers swept the water out of the way as fast as they could.

"I'll deal with it," Sam said.

Dean squinted out the windshield through the rain. "Do you mind if we deal with it somewhere dry? This storm is ridiculous. I can't see a damn thing," he said.

"I don't know," Sam said, "Let's keep driving. We're in the middle of nowhere."

"Well, we're going to be in the middle of a ditch if we don't stop off somewhere," Dean said.

A neon light flickered to life just off the road they were on. Sam and Dean saw it at the same time.

"Jackpot," Dean said. He steered the Impala towards the light and parked in what was hopefully a parking space.

They got out of the car and were both drenched in seconds. Luckily, the sign had been for a motel. Sam and Dean made a break for the doors.

The first thing Sam noticed was that, obviously, it wasn't raining indoors, and that was a wonderful, wonderful thing.

The second thing Sam noticed was that this motel was nice. Like really nice. Like it-has-a-fucking-lounge nice. And a fireplace. If it wasn't for being in the middle of nowhere, Sam might've thought this place was a five-star hotel and out of their credit card fraud comfort zone.

Dean turned to Sam and said, "Nice digs for once."

Sam completely agreed. The decor was nice, there was actual people milling around instead of the deserted places they normally stayed at, and Sam was dying to dry off by the crackling fire. The place seemed really warm, a decidedly pleasant surprise.

Sam and Dean walked up to the front desk to check in. A man in a maroon suit stood behind the counter typing quickly into his computer. There was a computer. Not a check-in book. Not a sign-your-name-on-the-guest-log thing. A computer.

The man typed away, glancing up briefly to smile at Sam and Dean before continuing his work.

"Busy night," Dean said.

"Any port in a storm, I guess," the man said, finishing his typing and facing the Winchesters, "If you could just fill this out, please." He slid a small sheet of paper to Dean.

So maybe there was a sign-your-name-on-the-guest-log thing. Still, this place was still the most high end place Sam had been to since the honeymoon suite with Ruby before the apocalypse. Or maybe wherever it was that Gabriel had taken him after their trip to Vermont.

"Sir, I think you got a little...shaving nick there," the man said to Dean, keeping Sam from dwelling on Gabriel for too long. The man produced a tissue almost out of thin air, handing it to Dean.

Sam glanced over at Dean, and yeah, his brother was bleeding a little. Huh. Sam didn't think he'd seen Dean shaving or anything, but he had been a bit stuck in his own head for a while. He probably just hadn't noticed.

"Your key," the man said, holding up a room key almost as stealthily as he'd grabbed the tissue for Dean.

Dean said, "Oh, thanks." He grabbed the key while still holding the tissue to his neck.

Sam forced a polite smile as he prepared to walk away from the front desk.

Before they left, Dean asked, "Hey, you would't happen to have a coffee shop, would you?"

"Buffet. All you can eat," the man said, gesturing further into the hotel, "Best pie in the tri-state area."

Dean smiled brightly. "You don't say," he said.

Dean practically dragged Sam over to the food. Sam wasn't hungry. It was hard to stir up an appetite when you could barely breathe from how sad and defeated you felt. He went through motions of filling up a plate and sitting down, but that was as far as it was going to go.

Dean, on the other hand, spent so much time over at the dessert section that Sam started wondering if his brother had gotten lost.

Dean sat down across from Sam with some pie and said, "Sam, unpucker, man. Eat something."

"We should hit the road, Dean," Sam said, looking at his phone. Sure, he was just checking the weather, which told him only what he already knew. It was still raining cats and dogs out there. But sitting in this nice hotel and relaxing felt wrong. They should be working. They had an apocalypse to stop, they had things to hunt and people to save. The last thing they should be doing is sitting and eating. Being idle for too long was a bad thing. It meant people got hurt, it meant Lucifer got stronger, and it meant Sam had nothing to distract him from the ache he had in his chest. God, if the last time he'd talked to Gabriel hadn't been so bad...

"In this storm?" Dean asked, "It's-"

"It's biblical. Exactly. It's friggin' Noah's Ark out there, and we're eating pie."

"How many hours of sleep did you get this week? What? Three? Four?" Dean asked.

Sam turned his head away with a strained smile. He saw what Dean was getting at, but taking a break in the middle of Armageddon was a seriously bad idea. And if he was being honest with himself, he'd maybe gotten two hours of solid sleep in the last week. His nightmares had never been so bad, and it was much easier to cover ground if one of them was always awake to drive.

"Bobby's got his feelers out, okay? We have talked to ever hoodoo man and root woman in twelve states," Dean said.

Sam said quickly, "Well, I'm not giving up."

"Nobody's giving up," Dean said, "Especially me."

Sam looked down, unable to look his brother in the eye. Dean had been so close to giving up so recently. He had been so ready to say yes to Michael that Cas was gone, and Adam was probably being tortured by angels. Sam didn't blame Dean for that, and he knew his brother had found some new resolve that kept him from wanting to say yes to an archangel. But Dean had been willing to let Michael in. And that still scared Sam.

"We're gonna find a way to beat the devil, okay? Soon. I can feel it," Dean said, "And we will find Cas, we'll find Adam, but you are no good to me burnt out."

Sam met Dean's intense stare. His brother had no idea. Being burnt out would be a vacation compared to what was going on in his head. If sleep could fix the hurt Gabriel had caused, Sam would've slept straight through any nightmare his subconscious could throw at him. He could barely think straight from how badly he wanted to punch something and scream at anyone who would listen that he'd fallen in love with an archangel who only wanted to use him to destroy the world. But there were things that Dean didn't need to know. And Gabriel was quite a few of them.

So, Sam said, "Yeah." He shook his head and sat up straighter. "Yeah, okay," he said.

"Come on. We've actually got the night off for once," Dean said, "Let's try to enjoy it."

Sam reached for his silverware, resigning himself to the fact that Dean wouldn't think he was relaxing if he wasn't eating. And he hadn't eaten in a day or so anyway. Food would probably do him some good.

After the meal, which Sam did miraculously finish, they decided to try and find their room. And they found it. Right next to a couple kissing and giggling in the hallway.

Dean gestured at the two and grinned, laughing.

"Oh, what are you, twelve?" Sam asked, judging his brother.

"I'm young at heart," Dean said. He unlocked the room and walked in. Sam followed him, anxious to get away from the happy couple. Only to find that their room did nothing but remind him of Gabriel. It was like the archangel had decorated it himself. There was even candy on the beds.

Dean whistled. "Wow, look at this. We're like Rockefellers," he said, "Chocolates! Mmm, you want yours?"

"Knock yourself out," Sam said.

Dean swiped the chocolate from Sam's pillow before looking at something on the nightstand. "Whoa," he said, "'Casa Erotica 13' on demand."

Sam scoffed. Of course his brother would get excited about the porn. Sam couldn't wait until, after being forced to have this "day off," Dean would force him to spend his time elsewhere in the hotel for fear being in the vicinity of Dean and on demand "Casa Erotica."

"What?" Dean said defensively.

Sam said, "Isn't this place kind of...in the middle of nowhere?"

"So?"

"So, what's a four-star hotel doing on a no-star highway?" Sam asked.

Just then, the happy couple in the next room started getting a little too happy. Sam and Dean could hear them through the walls.

Dean laughed.

Sam was about to roll his eyes when the bed creaking and thumping turned into something that sounded like a truck had just gotten rammed into the wall. The wall shuddered from the impact. The second hit made the bricks move and their flat screen tv hang haphazardly from the wall.

What the hell?

Sam and Dean quickly left their room and walked into the room next door. Something absolutely catastrophic must have happened to create that much damage, yet when they arrived in their neighbor's room, nothing seemed out of place. The room was immaculate. The bedding was rumpled up, but that was all the chaos to be had.

"Hello?" Dean called.

Silence answered them. Dean nodded for Sam to investigate behind the room divider. Nothing seemed out of place. The walls seemed fine, which was the really troubling part.

Sam tried a quick, "Hello?" in case they hadn't heard Dean.

Again, silence.

Sam joined Dean over by the empty bed. Dean bent over and picked something shiny up off the ground. A wedding ring. Oh, yeah, something really messed up must've happened for them to leave something like that behind.

After getting no answers from the creepiest concierge on the planet, Sam and Dean split up to look around.

Upon meeting back up, Sam and Dean had no answers and even more questions. Apparently, Dean had seen an elephant. In a hotel.

"An elephant?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Like, an elephant?" Sam asked again.

"Like, full-on Babar," Dean said.

"So, what the hell is-"

They walked into the main lobby. It was empty, completely empty. All the furnishings were exactly where they'd been, but the place was entirely devoid of people.

"Where is everybody?" Sam asked.

Shit. Sam walked over to the door and tried to open it. It wouldn't budge. Shit. This was so very not good.

"Let me guess, it's locked," Dean said, "So, what? The roaches check in, but they don't check out?"

The storm. Fucking hell, the storm. "Think about how we got here," Sam said, turning away from the door, "That detour on I-90? The friggin' hurricane?"

"You saying we were led here?" Dean asked.

"Like rats in a maze," Sam said.

This sucked, like this really sucked. They'd found themselves in messed up situations before. Hell, they usually created messed up situations on their own. This, though. This was clearly a trap, and Sam hated it. He hadn't felt this trapped and confused since TV Land, and that was quite literally the last thing he wanted to think about. He hated being trapped like this. At least in TV Land, they knew what they were up against. But this? A storm wasn't exactly a whole lot to go on. They needed answers to figure out how to get out of this.

They decided to get a look behind the scenes of this freak show and headed to the kitchen.

It looked like a normal kitchen. Stainless steel counters, food, cutlery. This room also had nobody in it, but Sam was starting to get used to it. There was a pot of boiling, red something sitting on the stove.

Dean stopped and looked at the pot with a scrutinizing look. "Please be tomato soup," he said, "Please, be tomato soup."

Dean moved the ladle and fished out a pair of eyeballs. He dropped the ladle, and Sam turned away from the pot. Well, that was just fucking great.

"Motel hell," Dean said.

Sam sighed. He hadn't exactly wanted a day off, but this really wasn't what he'd had in mind. He looked over at the freezer. If there were eyeballs in the soup, what the hell were they going to find in there?

Sam slowly stepped closer and prayed that they wouldn't find any dead bodies. Or something worse.

A man slammed himself against the freezer door with a frightened expression.

"Help us! Get us out!" he shouted.

Sam moved fast, pulling on the freezer handle. Locked. Of fucking course. He grabbed his lock pick.

"Hurry up," Dean said.

Sam said, "I'm going as fast as I-" He looked up at his brother and saw two men with sinister glares standing behind Dean. "As I can..." Sam finished quietly.

"There's something behind me, isn't there?" Dean said.

The two men grabbed Sam and Dean with inhuman strength and dragged them to the ballroom where they were shoved through the door into a room filled with people.

No, not people. Something else.

"Something tells me this isn't a shriner convention," Dean said.

The concierge came out wheeling in a food cart. "Dinner is served," the man said. He pulled off the food cover to reveal a man's severed head surrounded by intestines, organs, and meat.

Sam had thought the eyeballs had put him off his appetite. Now, he really thought he was going to puke.

The beings around them broke out in polite applause.

Suddenly, a bright spotlight shone in Sam and Dean's faces.

"Ladies and gentleman," said a man, "Our guests of honor have arrived."

Everyone took seats and forced Sam and Dean into seats as well.

The man addressing everyone, whose name tag said 'Baldur', clinked a fork to his glass of champagne. "Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming," he said, "Well, in all my centuries, I never thought I'd see this, this many gods under one roof."

"Gods?" Sam whispered, glancing at Dean. Oh, they were fucked.

"Now, before we get down to brass tacks, some ground rules," Baldur said, "No slaughtering each other. Curb your wrath. Oh, and, uh, keep your hands off the local virgins; we're trying to keep a low profile here."

"Oh, we are so, so screwed," Sam said quietly, looking at all of the gods around them. There were way too many to kill, and way too high up on the food chain to kill without some extensive research. Fuck.

"Now, we all know why we're here," Baldur said, "The Judeo-Christian apocalypse looms over us. I know we've all had our little disagreements in the past, the time has come to put those aside and look towards the future, 'cause if we don't, we won't have one."

A hush fell over the group as they considered this.

Baldur continued, "Now, we do have two very valuable bargaining chips. Michael and Lucifer's vessels. The question is, what do we do now? Anybody have any bright ideas? Speak up. This is a safe room."

A Chinese god stood up and spoke Mandarin very angrily.

"Oh, I don't like his tone," Dean muttered.

"Kill 'em? Why? So the angels here can bring them back again?" Ganesha said.

"I don't know what everybody's getting so worked up about," Odin said, "This is just a couple of angels having a slap fight. It's no Armageddon. Everybody knows when the world comes to an end, the great serpent Jormungandr rises up, and I, myself, will be eaten by a big wolf."

The Chinese god said something else with a sigh.

Odin leveled a look at him. "Oh yeah? And why is that? Because your beliefs are so much more realistic? The whole world's gettin' carried around on the back of a giant turtle. Ha. Give me a break."

More angry Mandarin was snapped at Odin.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Odin said, standing up.

More Mandarin.

Dean and Sam looked at each other. This fight was providing pretty decent cover. None of the gods were looking at them.

"You watch your mouth when you talk to me, boy!" Odin snapped.

More Mandarin was shouted.

Sam and Dean started quietly making their way towards the door.

"No one's ever proved that," Odin said, angrily.

A chandelier came crashing down in front of Sam and Dean, making them stop in their tracks and effectively ending the fight between the gods.

"Stay," Kali ordered.

Dean and Sam turned back towards the gods.

Kali slowly looked around at everyone. "We have to fight," she said, "The archangels...the only thing they understand is violence. This ends in blood. There is no other way. It's them...or us."

"With all due respect...ma'am," the concierge, Mercury, said, "We haven't even tried talking to them."

Kali glared at Mercury, causing the god to start choking. Mercury tugged at his collar and bow tie, blood starting to burble up his throat.

"Kali," Baldur said as a reprimand.

Kali released her hold on Mercury, the messenger god gasping for breath.

"Who asked you?" Kali hissed at Mercury.

Suddenly, the doors behind Sam and Dean swung open.

"Can't we all just get along?" Gabriel said.

Gabriel. Sam's breath caught. How could he be here? Why was he here? He probably caused the storm and set them up. How could Sam have been so stupid? That evil, horrible, little- It didn't matter what was going on with the gods, because at that moment, the flare of rage and shock and hurt in Sam just made him want Gabriel dead.

But damned if he didn't still love that asshole.

Sam said, "Gab-"

Gabriel moved his hand quickly, removing Sam and Dean's voices. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly and said, "Sam. Dean. Always wrong place, worst time with you muttonheads, huh?"

"Loki," Baldur said evenly.

Loki? Just when Sam thought he had Gabriel figured out, there was always another surprise around the corner.

"Baldur," Gabriel said with false cheer, "Good seeing you, too. I guess my invitation got lost in the mail."

"Why are you here?" Baldur asked, hostility dripping from his words.

That hostility didn't sit right with Sam. Sure, Sam was angry as hell with Gabriel, and it didn't surprise him in the slightest that the meddling archangel pissed off others as well, but if anyone was going to take that tone with Gabriel, it was Sam.

"To talk about the elephant in the room," Gabriel said to Baldur. Ganesha seemed to take offense, but Gabriel quickly said, "Not you." The archangel turned back to Baldur and said, "The apocalypse. We can't stop it, gang. But first things first." Gabriel turned around to face the Winchesters. "The adults need to have a little conversation. Check you later," he said.

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and the brothers were suddenly in a hotel room away from all the gods.

Sam and Dean looked around, both completely floored by everything that had just happened.

"Okay. Did that-holy crap," Dean said.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam said, "By the way, next time I say 'let's keep driving,' uh, let's keep driving."

"Okay, yeah, next time," Dean said.

Sam ran a hand down his face. "Uh, alright, so, what's our next move?" he asked. Gabriel was downstairs with a whole bunch of gods discussing the apocalypse. What next move could there even be?

Dean said, "I-I-I don't know. We grab those poor saps out of the freezer, I guess. Bust em out, gank a few freaks along the way if we're lucky."

"And when are you ever lucky?" Gabriel asked, sitting on the couch along the wall.

"Oh, you know what? Bite me, Gabriel," Dean said.

Gabriel said quickly, "Maybe later, big boy."

"I should've known," Dean said, "This had your stink all over it from the jump."

"You think I'm behind this? Please," Gabriel said, "I'm the Costner to your Houston. I'm here to save your ass."

"You want to pull us out of the fire?" Dean asked.

Gabriel said, "Bingo. Those gods are either gonna dust you or use you as bait. Either way, you're uber-boned."

"Wow, a couple months ago you were telling us we need to play our roles. You were uber-boning us," Dean said.

Sam had to agree with Dean. Sure, the last time Sam had talked to Gabriel, the archangel had seemed truly sorry over the whole TV Land thing, but he was still on Dean's side with this one. Sam didn't trust Gabriel anymore than Dean did.

"Oh, the end is still nigh. Michael and Lucifer are gonna dance the lambada," Gabriel said with a small dance gesture, "But not tonight. Not here."

"And why do you care?" Dean asked.

Sam stilled. He could think of one reason, but that reason was clearly a goddamn lie. Still, there was a lot of stuff that he didn't want Dean knowing.

"I don't...care. But," Gabriel said, looking at Sam intently, "Me and Kali, we, uh, had a thing." He looked back at Dean before saying, "Chick was all hands. What can I say? I'm sentimental."

"Do they have a chance?" Sam asked, "Against Satan?"

He didn't think too much about Kali and what Gabriel had just said, because that was just too much to think about at the moment; he focused on the important thing, being used as bait. If Lucifer came here, if the gods could work together and overpower him, no more apocalypse. It was more of a plan than they'd had so far, and after Lucifer was dead, Sam could figure out what to do with his feelings for Gabriel without the end of the world hanging over their heads.

"Really, Sam?" Dean asked.

"You got a better idea, Dean?" Sam asked.

"It's a bad idea," Gabriel said, meeting Sam's gaze, "Lucifer's gonna turn them into finger paint, so let's get going while the going's good, hmm?"

"Okay, good. Why don't you just zap us out of here, then?" Dean asked.

"Would if I could," Gabriel said, "But Kali's got you by the short and curlies. It's a blood spell. You boys are on a leash."

Dean asked, "What does that mean?"

"Means it's time for a little of the old black magic," Gabriel said, spritzing his mouth with a spray bottle that he pulled out from nowhere.

Sam looked at Gabriel. Seriously? Now, he couldn't stop thinking about that comment about having a thing with Kali. Did he seriously have a thing with Kali? Was Gabriel just going to go in there and seduce Kali the Destroyer? Sam did not like that idea at all. One, it was dangerous. Two, it was Gabriel seducing someone that wasn't him, and God, that shouldn't bother him so much, but it did. And it hurt like a bitch.

"Okay, yeah, well, whatever," Dean said, "We're gonna take the hors d'oeurves in the freezer with us."

"Forget it. It's gonna be hard enough sneaking you mooks out of here," Gabriel said.

Dean said, "They called you 'Loki', right? Which means they don't really know who you are?"

"Told you. I'm in witness protection," Gabriel said.

Dean said, "Okay, well, then how about you do what we say, or we tell the, uh, Legion of Doom about your secret identity. They don't seem like a real pro-angel kind of crowd."

Sam didn't quite know how to feel about Dean threatening Gabriel. There was still a part of him that wanted to care about Gabriel and protect him from anything. Then again, Sam himself had made a threat to Gabriel that had been much worse.

"I'll take your voices away," Gabriel said.

Dean said, "We'll write it down."

"I'll cut off your hands."

"Then people are gonna be asking, 'why are you guys running around with no hands?'"

Gabriel looked at Sam. The archangel asked telepathically, "Is he serious?"

Sam didn't bother replying.

Gabriel looked back at Dean. "Fine," he said angrily.

Gabriel disappeared, and Sam and Dean headed down to the kitchen. Sam tried very, very hard not to think about what Gabriel was doing with Kali in another part of the hotel.

In the lobby, a cry came from a human being attacked by the gods. "No! No!" he screamed.

Sam and Dean hid quickly around a corner as the gods ran the human over the reception desk. Dean went to intervene, but Sam held him back.

"It's too late," Sam said quickly.

They stayed quiet and hidden while they listened to the gods kill and consume the innocent man. Once the coast was clear, Sam and Dean made their way into the kitchen. Sam quickly got to work picking the lock and forcing images of Kali and Gabriel out of his head.

Within seconds, Dean was thrown across the kitchen by the Chinese god. Blood still on the god's face from killing the man in the lobby, the god ran at Sam, picking him up by the neck and pinning him against the freezer door. Sam tried kicking at the god, but it was no use. His vision started to go fuzzy from the strangulation.

Dean came up behind the god and stabbed him through the back with a stake. And it actually worked, unlike with Gabriel.

"Where the hell is Gabriel?" Dean asked.

Sam gasped, taking a deep breath. He looked at Dean. Where was Gabriel? That was a good question. If they were lucky, the archangel was simply enjoying himself and that nothing too terrible had happened.

But like Gabriel had said minutes before, when were they ever lucky?


	15. Hammer of the Gods (Part 2)

Gabriel swung the doors open to the ballroom where he felt Sam and the unfortunately large amassing of pagan gods. This was really bad. He'd known from the moment Kali let him feel her energy that she wanted him to be there. And that. That was very, very bad. "Can't we all just get along?" he asked in a playful, sing-song voice.

A wave of shock and hatred from Sam nearly knocked Gabriel on his ass. How many ways of apologizing did a guy have to try?

Sam said, "Gab-"

Gabriel moved his hand quickly, removing Sam and Dean's voices. Like hell he was going to let the boys ruin his standing with the other gods. He might not have been able to hide it from Sam the way he'd wanted to, but he still had a reputation to uphold. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly and said, "Sam. Dean. Always wrong place, worst time with you muttonheads, huh?"

"Loki," Baldur said evenly.

Baldur. Hmm. Gabriel hadn't seen that one coming. And standing next to Kali. Yeah, that just didn't seem right. Gabriel understood Baldur's hostility, though. The last time Gabriel and Baldur had been in the same room, Gabriel had tricked the arrogant prick into catching the one thing that would kill him. In fact, last Gabriel had checked, Baldur was dead. Apparently, Gabriel wasn't the only one in town with a few tricks up his sleeve.

"Baldur," Gabriel said with false cheer, "Good seeing you, too. I guess my invitation got lost in the mail."

"Why are you here?" Baldur hissed.

"To talk about the elephant in the room," Gabriel said. He pointed to Ganesha, "Not you." He turned back to Baldur and said, "The apocalypse. We can't stop it, gang. But first things first."

Gabriel turned around to face the Winchesters. He needed to get them as far away from the gods as he possibly could. But he could feel what Kali had done. The blood spell that was holding them here was a poignant one. Shit. A hotel room upstairs would have to do. "The adults need to have a little conversation. Check you later," he said.

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and the brothers were gone.

"What did you do with them?" Baldur snapped.

Gabriel waved a hand and said, "Relax. They're upstairs. I just wanted to have this little chat without revealing the big punchline."

Kali glared at Gabriel and asked, "What punchline?"

"The fact of the matter is, folks, Lucifer is stronger than all of us combined. Michael, too. And if we're talking about stopping this thing with violence..." Gabriel said, looking at Kali, "Then, it's all of our funerals."

Odin scoffed. "If you think some angels are stronger than us Norse gods, then you have no business being my son," he said.

"Oh, don't go pulling out the family bullshit now. You always liked Thor better anyway," Gabriel said, "The angels are stronger than us. I don't think it, I know it. I just figured you all might like the truth before everyone goes and gets themselves killed."

Odin glared at Gabriel, but Gabriel paid no mind. Odin might have been the one to take him in after he fled from Heaven, but now he was just another father that Gabriel had managed to disappoint. He was kind of used to it.

"Why don't we take a break?" Ganesha said, "We can think this over and reconvene after some snacks."

Baldur sighed and said, "Very well."

Gabriel snapped his fingers and showed up on Sam and Dean's couch to discuss how to get them out of this mess. After a lot of talking and horribly stupid ideas, Sam and Dean went to break out a bunch of humans from the kitchen while Gabriel worked some magic with an old flame.

Kali was in a state of undress when Gabriel arrived. He turned out the lights and lit some candles as he appeared with a red rose in hand.

"Bonjour, mon amour," Gabriel said as Kali turned around to look at him.

"Leave," Kali said evenly.

Gabriel kept his flirty smirk in place. "You always did play hard to get," he said. He hoped it would make her think of when he had first wooed her, back when he'd defaced several temples of Hindu gods in Kali's name. That hadn't gone over very well, but it had gotten Kali's attention one way or another.

"I've moved on," Kali said.

"I noticed," Gabriel said, "Baldur? Really?"

Kali turned away from him, looking back at her mirror. "Baldur's uncomplicated," she said.

Gabriel didn't know what was so complicated about fits of wrath and angry, rough sex, but he had to admit, the end of their relationship had gotten pretty dramatic. Kali wasn't given the nickname "the Destroyer" for nothing.

Gabriel went ahead with his plan anyway. He conjured up some champagne and glasses, pouring them each a glass.

"I never took you for the type," Kali said, watching Gabriel pour.

"Romantic?" Gabriel asked. He thought about his trip with Sam to Vermont. Yeah, he hadn't pegged himself for a romantic either, but the evidence was against him.

Kali corrected him. "Pathetic," she said.

Gabriel dropped his smile a little. He'd have to try another approach. "You're the one who called me here," he said. After they split, Kali made sure he'd never be able to find her without her consent. The fact that she'd left herself be known to him was as much an invitation to this shindig as any.

"Because I thought you might take this seriously," Kali said.

Gabriel swallowed his sip of champagne. "I'm taking this seriously," he said, "Ship's sinking. Time to get off. I mean, screw this marble. Let's go check out Pandora."

Kali had always talked about leaving with him after she'd brought about the destruction of the world. Sure, she'd probably be bitter about not being the one to end it, but the idea would hopefully loosen her up a little.

"It doesn't have to be like that," Kali said.

Gabriel had to come up with some way to convince Kali to call this thing off. He hadn't been lying when he told Sam and Dean that he was sentimental. Kali was a cool goddess, and Gabriel really didn't want to see her get hurt by his asshole brother. More than that, Gabriel really didn't want to see his asshole brother show up, kill Kali, and take over Sam's body all in one go, and that was exactly where all of this was heading.

Gabriel stepped closer to Kali and said, "Afraid it does."

"If we fight-" she started.

"You die."

"And what makes you such an expert?"

"I've tousled with those winged ass-monkeys once or twice," Gabriel said evenly.

Kali backed away slightly, but Gabriel caught her hands in his. "Kali," he said, "No more tricks. I'm begging you, don't do this."

"I have to," Kali murmured.

Gabriel could see the resolve in her face. Fine. Plan B. "Can't blame me for trying," he said, backing down.

Kali smiled at him fondly.

"Still love me?" Gabriel asked.

"No," Kali said, her smile still in place.

Gabriel locked eyes with her the way he used to before they'd go off and wreak havoc.

Kali pulled Gabriel into a deep kiss, her hands getting in his hair before the archangel could think twice. Perfect.

He could feel Sam's anxious energy in the kitchen below. They were under attack. He had to move fast.

Gabriel deepened the kiss roughly, moving a hand to slowly reach the vials of blood behind his ex.

Sam was being choked. Shit. Gabriel needed to get the blood and go.

Gabriel's hand touched the vials, and Kali scratched Gabriel's neck with all the ferocity of a feline.

"Ow," Gabriel said, jerking back, looking at Kali.

Kali's smile was gone. "You must take me for a fool, Gabriel," she said.

Shit.

"You are bound to me, now and forever," Kali said evenly, holding up her fingers dripping with the archangel's blood.

Fuck.

Kali brought Gabriel down into the ballroom with her while the other gods slowly milled in. They were screwed. They were so, so screwed.

It wasn't long before Sam and Dean were shoved back into the room. Guess nobody's plans had been successful.

"How long have you known?" Gabriel asked Kali.

Kali looked down at him with disdain. "Long enough," she said.

Sam was shoved into a seat next to Gabriel, and Dean was shoved down next to Sam.

"How's the rescue going?" Dean asked.

Gabriel gave Dean an unamused grin.

"Well, surprise, surprise," Kali said, "The Trickster has tricked us."

"Kali, don't," Gabriel said.

"You're mine now," Kali said, sitting on the edge of Gabriel's chair, pressing herself close to him, "And you have something I want."

Gabriel was warmed slightly by the tinge of jealousy he could feel coming off of Sam. Maybe he had a shot to redeem himself after all, assuming they all survived this.

Kali dragged her hand along Gabriel's neck and down his chest, slowly exploring around his side and into his jacket.

Baldur looked away uncomfortably.

Kali pulled out Gabriel's blade. "An archangel's blade," she said, "From the archangel Gabriel."

All of the gods were silent.

Gabriel said, "Okay, okay. So I got wings. Like kotex. But that doesn't make me any less right about Lucifer."

"He's lying. He's a spy," Kali said.

"I'm not a spy, I'm a runaway," Gabriel said, "I'm trying to save you. I know my brother, Kali. He should scare the living crap out of you. You can't beat him. I've skipped ahead, seen how this story ends."

Kali stopped him. "Your story, not ours," she said, "Westerners. I swear, the sheer arrogance. You think you're the only ones on Earth? You pillage and you butcher in your god's name. But you're not the only religion. And he's not the only god. And now you think you can just rip the planet apart? You're wrong. There are billions of us, and we were here first. If anyone gets to end this world, it's me."

Kali ran her hand along Gabriel's cheek. "I'm sorry," she said.

Kali stabbed Gabriel's blade into his chest. Gabriel had known something like this might happen. He created the illusion of his grace pouring out of him as he created a copy in his exact spot and disappeared to the parking lot.

When he'd created that fake blade, he'd tipped it with a little bit of angel metal, just enough to cause a little actual damage so he would have any delayed reaction time.

Gabriel stumbled over to the Impala, holding a hand to the blood seeping through his shirt. He healed quickly. He'd never let Kali have an actually lethal weapon.

Gabriel could feel how upset Sam was. Sam was looking at Gabriel's dead copy. There was so much hurt and sadness in that boy. Gabriel sighed. What he wouldn't give to see Sam smile again. He laid down in the backseat of the Impala and waited. He still had to deal with the blood spell on himself and the brothers. He'd come up with something.

But in a matter of minutes, Sam's grief turned into shock and bewilderment. Gabriel took a closer listen.

Dean was saying, "Now, on any other given day, I'd be doing my damnedest to, uh, kill you, you filthy murdering chimps, but, uh, hey, desperate times. So, even though I'd love nothing better than to slit your throats, you dicks, I'm gonna help you. I'm gonna help you ice the devil. And then, we can all get back to ganking each other like normal. You want Lucifer? Well, dude's not in the yellow pages. But me and Sam, we can get him here."

"How?" Kali asked.

"First, you let those main courses go, then we talk," Dean said, "We can either take on the Devil together, or you lame-ass bitches can eat me. Literally."

Well, that certainly explained Sam's shock. Within minutes, a bunch of people came streaming out of the front doors.

"Go, go! Go! Get out of here," Dean called after the running people.

Gabriel scooted over to the window and said in a hushed voice, "Psst! Dean! D-Don't look at me! Act natural. Get in."

Dean crossed in front of the Impala and got in the driver's seat. He turned around to face Gabriel and said, "Man, there is nothing natural about this at all. I thought you were dead."

"You think I'd give Kali my real sword? That thing can kill me," Gabriel said.

"Then, what do they have in there?" Dean asked.

Gabriel grinned and said, "A fake. Made it out of a can of diet orange slice. So, uh, go snag our blood, would ya?"

"What?" Dean asked.

"I heard you in there," Gabriel said, "Kali likes you. You can get close. Lift the plasma, then we vamoose."

Dean said, "No. Hand over the real blade. Better yet, why don't you sack up and help us take down Lucifer?"

"You can't be serious," Gabriel said.

"Deadly."

"Since when are you butt-buddies with a bunch of monsters? That's all they are to you, aren't they?"

"Alright, you know what? Sam was right. It's nuts, but it's the best idea I've heard, so unless you have a better one..."

Gabriel stopped himself from saying anything else. No way was Dean going to take the Rings of the Horsemen idea over killing Lucifer here and now. Even if it was a suicide mission.

"Well, good luck with that," Gabriel said, rapping his hands on the front seat, "Me? I'm blowing Jonestown. Those lemmings want to jump off a cliff, that's their business."

"I see right through you, you know that?" Dean said, "The smart-ass shell, the whole 'I could give a crap' thing. Believe me, it takes one to know one."

"That so?" Gabriel said sarcastically.

"Yes," Dean said, "And maybe those freaks in there aren't your blood, but they are your family."

"They just stabbed me in the freakin' heart," Gabriel said.

"Maybe, but you still give a crap about them, don't you?" Dean pressed.

Gabriel looked at Dean. Why was that idiot always right? Of course he didn't want Kali to get hurt. Baldur was an asshat, but he'd felt bad when he'd killed him the last time. Odin was the only father that Gabriel could actually see from time to time. But there was something bigger stopping him. Bigger than all the gods. Big enough that all Gabriel wanted to do was get Sam the hell out of there.

Gabriel said, "Dean-"

"Now, they're gonna die in there without you," Dean said, cutting him off.

"I can't kill my brother," Gabriel said, shaken at the honesty in his words. Even if he wanted to, Lucifer was too strong. He'd fight Lucifer for Sam in a heartbeat, but it wasn't something he wanted, and it most certainly wasn't a fight he would win. And even if he could, it was Lucifer. They'd grown up together, they'd helped create earth together. They'd had races and wrestling matches and watched their Father putting up the stars late at night. He'd do anything to protect Sam just a little bit longer, but hiding Sam and keeping him away from the Devil was easy. Killing his big brother wasn't in Gabriel's power.

"Can't or won't?" Dean asked.

Gabriel didn't answer. Dean only saw the monster Lucifer had become. He wouldn't understand.

Dean shook his head. "That's what I thought," he said, clearly disappointed.

Dean left the Impala before Gabriel could say another word.

Gabriel heard Dean tell Kali that he was still alive and sighed. He had to get his blood away from her somehow.

Then, he felt it. Gabriel felt it like a cold shiver running through his core. Lucifer was here.

Gabriel flew quickly to Sam and Dean's hotel room. They weren't there, but Gabriel had to do something important before he did something incredibly stupid. He created a Casa Erotica 13 DVD and changed the content to something vital. It was a backup plan, but it would help save the world if necessary.

He sat on the bed. Lucifer had just killed Mercury. Gabriel hadn't even gotten the chance to compliment Mercury on his renovation of this hotel. The illusion work was excellent.

Odin. Gabriel felt Odin's death and almost cried. Gabriel didn't care what Joshua had to say about God being proud of him, Odin had actually been there for Gabriel. He'd found the young archangel and took him to the north without even asking questions.

He needed to do something. But Lucifer was too strong. It was the gods' fault that they were dying. They should've listened to him, but they didn't.

Baron Samedi died. Followed quickly by Ganesha.

This wasn't his fight. He'd known the apocalypse was coming since the beginning of time. He didn't need to go on a suicide mission to prove his Father right.

Baldur's energy vanished from Gabriel's senses. Kali squared off against Lucifer. Sam jumped behind a table for cover. Sam. Sam was scared, completely defenseless.

Gabriel sighed and stood up. He knew the Mystery Spot had been wrong. He knew he should've followed with Sam's plan and never stuck them in TV Land. He knew what side he was on. He was on Sam's side, come Hell or high water. He knew what he had to do. There was no one else he'd rather die for.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked Dean.

"Not really," Gabriel said, making both of the brothers look at him in surprise, "Better late than never, huh?"

Dean nodded. Sam looked at him with wide eyes.

Gabriel slapped the Casa Erotica 13 DVD onto Dean's chest. "Guard this with your life," he said.

Gabriel scurried around the upturned table, and just as Lucifer was about to stomp the life from Kali, blasted his older brother with a wave of power that flung Lucifer into the wall outside the ballroom doors.

Gabriel stood tall, shoulders back, archangel blade in hand, ready to fight the Devil or die trying. "Lucy," he said, "I'm home."

Lucifer charged back into the room, but Gabriel blocked him from getting to Kali.

"Not this time," Gabriel said. He helped Kali up off the ground. "Guys," he said, calling to Sam and Dean, "Get her out of here."

Gabriel stood between Lucifer and what was left of his little family as Sam and Dean walked with Kali out of the ballroom.

"Over a girl," Lucifer said, judgmental as always.

Gabriel glanced up at Sam. Sam had to be okay. He had to be safe and strong and not anywhere near Gabriel's asshole brothers. He wouldn't let Lucifer hurt Sam.

"Gabriel, really?" Lucifer said, "I mean, I knew you were slumming, but I hope you didn't catch anything."

Gabriel said with a soft smile, "Lucifer, you're my brother, and I love you, but you are a great, big bag of dicks."

"What did you just say to me?" Lucifer asked, offended.

"Look at yourself," Gabriel said, "'Boo-hoo. Daddy was mean to me, so I'm gonna smash up all his toys.'"

"Watch your tone," Lucifer said.

"Play the victim all you want, but you and me, we know the truth," Gabriel said, "Dad loved you best. More than Michael, more than me. Then, he brought the new baby home, and you couldn't handle it. So all this is just a great big temper tantrum. Time to grow up."

Gabriel felt Sam leave with Dean and Kali in the Impala. Good.

Lucifer said, "Gabriel, if you're doing this for Michael-"

"Screw him," Gabriel said, "If he were standing here, I'd shiv his ass, too."

"You disloyal-"

"Oh, I'm loyal," Gabriel said quickly, "To them." After what happened after the TV Land incident, Gabriel would loyal to Sam for the rest of his days no matter what.

Lucifer asked, "Who? These so-called gods?"

It wasn't the gods, though he did have a soft spot for a few of them. It was Sam. It was always Sam. Sam was so flawed in the best ways. But it was also Dean. Dean was a self-sacrificing brother with a smile to mask everything else. Gabriel could relate all too well. But it was also Bobby, who gave everything and anything for boys he wasn't even related to. It was John, loving his wife and his boys to the point of preparing Sam and Dean for darkness they had no reason to know. It was Mary, trying her darnedest to live a normal life. It was Jessica Moore, dying for circumstances outside her control. It was comedians and dancers and scientists and writers and musicians and teachers and adults and children all trying so hard to make something of what they found themselves in. It was all of them. Sam was amazing, and Gabriel would never find his equal, but Sam was one of millions of humans who tried so hard in such beautiful ways. For the first time in millennia, Gabriel saw it. Dad had been right all along.

"To people, Lucifer. People," Gabriel said.

Lucifer asked, "So, you're willing to die for a pile of cockroaches? Why?"

"Because Dad was right," Gabriel said, "They are better than us."

"They are broken, flawed abortions," Lucifer snapped.

"Damn right, they're flawed," Gabriel said, "But a lot of 'em try. To do better, to forgive. And you should see the Spearmint Rhino."

Lucifer looked a little lost for a moment, like he couldn't believe what Gabriel was saying. But Gabriel had seen it. He'd seen Dean Winchester crawl out of his own grave. He'd seen Bobby Singer try to save Sam through the power of love alone. He'd seen Sam Winchester look past evil and see goodness. Sam had seen something in Gabriel that he himself had long forgotten. He'd fought through visions he didn't understand, he'd tried so hard to save his brother from Hell even when he knew there was no reason to hope, he tried to do nothing but good even when it led him to doing the exact opposite. And his flaws were what made him perfect. Humans were capable of making mistakes and learning, trying, working harder. They could grow and flourish instead of stagnate like the ancient, ageless warriors hiding away in Heaven.

"I've been riding the pine a long time, but I'm in the game now," Gabriel said, "And I'm not on your side or Michael's. I'm on theirs."

Lucifer stayed silent for a moment before saying quietly, "Brother, don't make me do this."

"No one makes us do anything," Gabriel said.

Gabriel left his copy where he'd been and appeared behind Lucifer.

"I know you think you're doing the right thing, Gabriel," Lucifer said.

Gabriel raised his archangel blade slightly. He didn't want to do this, but he had no other choice. Lucifer had made that perfectly clear.

Lucifer said, "But I know where your heart truly lies."

Gabriel raised his blade a little bit higher, and Lucifer turned around, grabbing the sword in Gabriel's hand and stabbing him in the chest with it.

Gabriel gasped.

"Here," Lucifer said softly.

Gabriel's copy of himself vanished. He couldn't focus enough to stabilize his copy through the pain.

"Amateur hocus-pocus," Lucifer said, "Don't forget, you learned all your tricks from me, little brother."

Gabriel knew what was about to happen. Using what strength he had left, he left a copy of himself in Lucifer's hands and collapsed on the roof. He made the copy's death look convincing, but he had no idea if Lucifer bought it or not.

Gabriel gasped in pain. His grace leaked out of the hole in his chest slowly. It burned.

Gabriel tried to focus on something. Sam, a beach, anything. He focused his energy on what happened below. He needed to know if Lucifer was about to appear on the roof to finish the job.

Lucifer cried, looking at his baby brother's body lying on the floor between burnt wings. Gabriel didn't know if the tears were for show or if Lucifer really thought he was dead.

Lucifer flew off, leaving the Elysian Fields Hotel far behind him. Gabriel stopped reaching out with his draining grace. His wound wasn't quite lethal, but it was deep and was taking a long time to heal. He let out a cry of pain as his muscle slowly stitched itself back together. At least Sam was safe. Gabriel wanted to go to Sam to try apologizing again now that he'd hopefully proven he was on their side. But he couldn't. He couldn't be sure that his illusion had tricked Lucifer. Lucifer couldn't find Sam, but he could easily find Gabriel. After what Gabriel had said to his brother, he'd pretty much labeled himself a beacon to find the Winchesters. Hopefully, Lucifer really thought Gabriel had died, but Gabriel couldn't be sure. He couldn't take that big of a risk. He couldn't let Lucifer find Sam again.

So, Gabriel laid there on the roof of the hotel, slowly, painfully healing. He faded in and out of consciousness as the pain and weakness became too much. Once his ribs snapped back together with a horrible crack, Gabriel tried sitting up. He had no idea how long he'd been on the roof, but he couldn't see his grace coming out of his chest, so at least that was something.

That's when he sensed Sam driving up to the hotel in the Impala. He was alone. No Dean, no Kali. Sam slammed the driver's door of the Impala shut and ran to the front doors of the hotel.

Sam was praying. "Please, be alive. Please, be alive. Please, please, don't be dead."

Gabriel sighed. Sam wasn't going to understand how risky it would be for Gabriel to be around him. Sam wasn't going to stay away from Gabriel, and it was going to be hard enough for Gabriel to stay away from Sam without Sam thinking he could hear his prayers.

Gabriel left his copy's body exactly where it lay. It would be for the best if Sam thought Gabriel really was dead. He needed to do this trick, this last trick on Sam Winchester.

One last trick to try to save Sam's life.


	16. Hammer of the Gods (The Aftermath)

"We need to go back," Sam said urgently as they sped down the highway.

"Go back?" Dean asked, "Gabriel just risked his neck in there for us to get out of there, and you want us to go back?"

"We need to try and help Gabriel. We owe him that much," Sam said.

Kali said, "If I know Loki...Gabriel, I know he can take care of himself. We, on the other hand, do not stand a fighting chance against archangels."

Sam turned around in the passenger seat to look at Kali. "That's the thing," he said, "No one knows Gabriel. There's always something that he's not saying, something he's hiding. If he doesn't need help against Lucifer, great, but if he does need help, we need to be there for him."

Kali scoffed and said, "Honestly, after everything Gabriel has done, I'd call us even. I owe him nothing." She disappeared from the backseat with a blink of her eyes.

Sam said, "Dean-"

"I think the goddess is right on this one. How many times has Gabriel screwed us over?" Dean said, "Now, he turned over a new leaf. Super. But that doesn't mean we have to go back there and die for the guy."

"Dean, we need to go back. He could be dead," Sam pressed.

Dean snapped, "And how would you be able to help then, Sam? I am not turning this car around, and we are not going back. End of discussion."

Sam set his jaw. They needed to go help Gabriel. They were just leaving him there to die if he wasn't dead already. He knew his brother was making sense, and he knew Gabriel would be furious if Sam so willingly walked back into a room with Lucifer, but Sam had to be sure that Gabriel was okay. He sat in silence. He'd get back to Elysian Fields. He'd find a way.

Dean fell asleep quickly at the next motel they stopped at. Sam slowly, quietly crossed the room to the small motel table to search through Dean's jacket for the car keys. Dean grumbled a little in his sleep, and Sam froze. Dean would try to stop him.

Sam found the keys and carefully slipped out of the room. Dean was going to kill him if he woke up. But Sam didn't care. He needed to go back. He'd take whatever Dean could dish out if it meant that Gabriel would be okay.

Sam turned the key in the ignition and sped off back towards the hotel full of dead gods.

"Please, be alive. Please, be alive. Please, please, don't be dead," Sam said under his breath as he ran up to the front doors of the hotel. He wasn't expecting there to be an answer to his prayer, but it would've made Sam feel a lot better if a small, sassy archangel would pop up in front of him. The hotel was empty. Mercury's dead body still lay behind the reception desk. The hallway down to the ballroom was strewn with death and blood.

Sam got through the doors of the ballroom and stopped dead in his tracks.

Gabriel.

Sam ran past the overturned tables and broken lamps to where it looked like a grenade had gone off. Gabriel's corpse lay in the middle of two burnt out wings, his archangel blade sticking out of his chest.

Sam dropped to the ground next to Gabriel. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't. Gabriel had told him that no one could kill him, no one tricks the Trickster. He couldn't be dead. Then again, Gabriel had lied about a lot of things.

Sam pulled Gabriel's body onto his lap and brushed the hair from the archangel's face. "Tell me that this is just another trick," he whispered.

There was no reply.

Sam touched his forehead to Gabriel's and cried. It was just like with Jess. And Madison. And Ruby. He knew he was cursed, but it never got easier. And now, Gabriel was gone. Gabriel had been the best friend he'd ever had. He'd been there for him so many times. Sam had forgiven him for the Mystery Spot, and when Gabriel showed up to take on Lucifer, Sam had forgiven him for TV Land, too.

And Sam was going to tell him. After everything, Sam wanted to tell him that he didn't hate him, that he still loved him, that he was so sorry for the horrible things he'd said.

But it was too late.

Gabriel was dead.

Sam felt horrible. He'd doubted the Trickster. He'd had reason to doubt him, but in the end, Gabriel had been on his side.

Sam had no doubt now, holding Gabriel's lifeless form, that the archangel really had loved him.

There was still a part of Sam that expected Gabriel to spring to life, to just open his eyes and flash a playful smile. He'd give Sam some sass for crying over him.

Gabriel didn't feel dead, not really. Every time Sam or Dean had managed to kill the Trickster, it never really stuck. Lucifer was clearly more powerful than the Winchesters, but nobody tricked the Trickster, right?

It had to be a trick. It had to. Gabriel couldn't really be dead.

But Gabriel would also never willingly put Sam through this pain. Of all the things the archangel had done, Gabriel would never fake his death and let Sam believe it. Not after what Sam had told him about Jess and everyone else he ever cared about. Gabriel would know that that was a line he could never cross.

And Gabriel's dead body was in Sam's arms. All the light and laughter, forever gone.

No.

Sam clutched his fist in Gabriel's jacket. He couldn't be gone. He couldn't. There had to be a way to fix this. There had to be a way to get him back. Wherever angels went when they died, Sam would go there and find him.

It felt like when Dean went to Hell all over again. That horrible emptiness in his chest from the loss quickly filling with irrational plans to fix the unfix-able.

Dean. Dean would notice the Impala was gone by now. Sam didn't care. Let Dean get upset. Let Dean take a swing at him. None of it would hurt worse than this.

Sam pressed a kiss to lips that couldn't return it. "Please, come back," he whispered.

The hotel was silent. The silence of the ballroom pressed in on Sam with a horrible weight. He needed to leave. He needed to do something, or he was going to lose it.

But he sat there, holding Gabriel close to his chest, and shedding tears and sobs until he had nothing left.

The sky began to lighten with the first rays of early dawn when Sam finally left the Elysian Fields hotel. He'd given Gabriel a hunter's funeral. A bit of salt, a bit of lighter fluid, and a match. He'd stared into the flames until he couldn't feel anything but a tired numbness. If it weren't for Dean, he'd have nothing to keep fighting for. He was so tired of losing everyone. He just wanted it to be over.

Sam sighed, defeated, behind the wheel of the Impala as he headed back to the motel where his brother was. He'd judged Dean so harshly for being willing to give in to Michael, but now, he felt like he understood. At least the weight of the world wouldn't be on him anymore.

But Sam didn't want to say yes to Lucifer. He wanted to kill him. Now more than ever, Sam wanted nothing more than to watch the grace fade from that evil son of a bitch. It didn't matter what it took, they'd find a way to beat Satan or die trying.

Sam arrived at the motel, surprised to find Dean still waking up.

"Dude, where were you?" Dean asked, sleepily.

Sam said quietly, "Went to get coffee."

Dean looked at Sam and asked, "Well, where is it?"

Sam sighed. "Couldn't find a shop around here," he said.

Dean groaned and pulled his jacket on. "Well, that's just great," he said, "Freakin' town has no freakin' coffee. Let's get out of here."

Dean went to check out, and Sam made the beds, making sure the sheets on the beds were completely smooth and even. They hit the road in record time.

"You alright?" Dean asked about an hour into the silent trip.

Sam shrugged. Gabriel was dead. Lucifer was still on the loose. Sam wasn't within the same zip code as 'alright.'

"Yeah, being that close to the Devil was kinda jarring for me, too," Dean said.

Sam sighed. He didn't want to talk about it.

Dean made a turn and something slid across the backseat.

"What's that?" Sam asked. It looked like a DVD.

Dean said, "That the copy of Casa Erotica Gabriel told me to keep an eye on."

"And you just tossed it in the backseat of your car? He said to guard it with your life, Dean," Sam snapped.

Dean pulled over to the side of the road and said, "Whoa. Hey, everything and everyone within this vehicle is completely, one-hundred percent safe. I'd never let anything happen to my baby, and that includes everything in her."

Sam rolled his eyes but knew if he didn't tone down his reactions, he would have a lot of explaining to do about Gabriel.

Dean looked at Sam, concerned, before saying, "You wanna watch it?"

"Ew, Dean, no," Sam said, "I don't wanna watch porn with you-"

"It's probably something else if Gabriel made such a big deal about keeping it safe," Dean said.

Sam took a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right," he said, "Let me grab my laptop."

Sam got out of the car and pulled his duffle out of the backseat. Grabbing his laptop, he slid it on top of the car and closed the door. Dean grabbed the DVD and popped it in, Sam joining him on the other side of the Impala.

A red screen immediately appeared, verifying that all of the performers of Casa Erotica were at least 18 years of age. Had Gabriel really left them a porno as the last thing he ever did for them? Sam wouldn't even be surprised.

A gorgeous blonde in black, lacy lingerie and heels laid out on a bed. "Dear Diary," the woman's voice said, "Being a high-powered business president is super fun but so exhausting. Sometimes I just need to relax. I need Casa Erotica."

A knock came at her door. "Room service," came a voice with an accent.

"Come in," the blonde said.

Sam rested his hand on the laptop, almost ready to stop the DVD. "Gabriel wanted you to guard this with your life?" he asked.

"Maybe he's a fan," Dean said, "It is a good one."

Gabriel walked into the blonde's room and said, "I've got the kielbasa you ordered."

Sam froze. Gabriel had inserted himself into a porn. What.

"Mmm, Polish?" the blonde asked.

"Hungarian," Gabriel said intently and tossed the dishes to the side haphazardly. He crossed the room to the blonde, making out with the woman in exaggerated fashion, the archangel's hands exploring everywhere.

Sam didn't know what to make of this. Part of him had no interest seeing Gabriel getting intimate with this woman, but another part of him hoped that this video was somehow a sign that the Trickster was really alive.

The moaning and happy noises coming from the video made Sam extra uncomfortable. "What the hell is going on?" he asked. Sam hoped that Gabriel could somehow hear that question and answer it himself.

Gabriel in the video turned around and faced the camera. "Sam. Dean. You're probably wondering what the hell's going on," he said.

Sam's eyes widened slightly.

Gabriel ripped off his fake porn-stache and said, "Well, if you're watching this, I'm dead."

Sam tried not to react too much to that. He hadn't gotten his hopes up all that much anyway.

"Oh, please," Gabriel said, "Stop sobbing. It's embarrassing for all of us." He sat down on the bed and continued, "Without me, you have zero shot at killing Lucifer. Sorry. But you can trap him. The cage you sprung Lucifer from? It's still down there, and maybe, just maybe, you can shove his ass back in. Not that it'll be easy. You got to get the cage open, trick my bro back into it, and uh, oh yeah, avoid Michael and the God squad."

The video zoomed in on Gabriel's face. He continued, "But, hey, details, right? And here's the big secret. Lucifer himself doesn't even know. But the key to the cage? It's out there. Actually, it's keys. Plural. Four keys. Well, four rings. From the Horsemen. You get them all, you got the cage."

Sam and Dean looked at each other. That was certainly news to them.

"Can't say I'm betting on you boys, but uh, hey, I've been wrong before," Gabriel said.

Holy crap, they had a plan. Or at least part of one.

"And Dean," Gabriel said, making the brothers turn back towards the screen, "You were right. I was afraid to stand up to my brother. Not anymore."

The blonde rubbed Gabriel from behind.

"So this is me. Standing up," Gabriel said, standing from the bed, "And this is me...lying down."

Gabriel tossed the blonde's bra to the side and tackled her to the bed. The video proceeded to get much more pornographic from there.

Once Gabriel unzipped his pants, Sam had had enough. "Oh. Oh, man," he said, closing the laptop quickly.

"Horsemen, huh?" Dean said, "We got War's. We nicked Famine's. That's two rings down. Collect all four? All we need is pestilence and death."

"Oh, is that all?" Sam said sarcastically. It's not like the horsemen they'd faced had been all that easy to deal with.

"It's a plan," Dean said.

Sam had to agree with him there. It was a plan, it was a hell of a lot more of a plan than they'd had. Once they got the rings, assuming they succeeded, they'd have to get Lucifer back in the cage. That wasn't going to be an easy feat, but Sam already had an idea. It was a bad idea, but it was an idea.

The brothers got back in the Impala and kept driving. For the first time since the apocalypse started to see how the Devil was right. Sam was done losing people. He was done crying over their corpses. He was done paying for a war he didn't start. The apocalypse wasn't going to happen, not on his watch. He'd do whatever he needed to.

Sam would say yes to Lucifer. And he'd drag that vile, murdering piece of shit back into the cage where he belonged.


	17. Swan Song

Gabriel sat beside Chuck quietly, almost peacefully if his wreck of an existence could qualify as peaceful. Chuck put a hand on Gabriel's shoulder, and the archangel almost flinched. It wasn't that Chuck was a threat or anything, it was just...Gabriel could still feel Sam. He could still feel him even though...

"I want to read something to you, if that's okay," Chuck said softly.

Gabriel nodded blankly. He didn't really care. He didn't care if Chuck read him something or if Raphael knew where he was or if Heaven could sense him. He didn't care if his cover was blown, if anyone was looking for him. All his care was far, far away.

"On April 21, 1967," Chuck began, "The hundred-millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at a plant in Janesville, a blue, two-door Caprice. There was a big ceremony, speeches, the lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later, another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should've."

Gabriel wasn't sure he wanted to hear about the Winchesters' car. He wasn't sure about anything, really. Just pain. Terribly cold pain.

Chuck continued, "Because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn about to be the most important object in pretty much the whole universe."

Gabriel attempted a chuckle. "You're giving a lot of credit to that car. It was really the army man that..." he said, trailing off as he remembered what had just happened.

Chuck smiled softly and said, "I know. There's a reason for it. Humor me."

Gabriel nodded, trying desperately to forget and also remember every single detail simultaneously.

"She was first owned by Sal Moriarty, an alcoholic with two ex-wives and three blocked arteries. On weekends, he'd drive around giving bibles to the poor. Gettin' folks right for Judgment Day, that's what he said. Sam and Dean don't know any of this, but if they did, I bet they'd smile," Chuck read aloud.

Gabriel stiffened at Sam's name. It was all he could think about, all he could feel, but it was still the last thing he wanted to hear. Sam's soul shrieked from where it was, and Gabriel couldn't do a single damn thing to stop it, and Chuck was just sitting there wanting to read him something about the boys' precious car. Honestly, listening to the words Chuck had written was probably the only thing keeping Gabriel sane.

"If it hurts to hear, I don't have to read you this. I just thought it'd be nice to get your opinion," Chuck said.

Gabriel said quickly, "It's fine. I'm fine. Keep going."

"Alright," Chuck said softly, regarding Gabriel with concern, "After Sal died, she ended up at Rainbow Motors, a used-car lot in Lawrence, where a young marine bought her on impulse, that is, after a little advice from a friend. I guess that's where this story begins. And here's where it ends."

Gabriel turned away from the computer screen Chuck was reading from.

"You're sure you're okay?" Chuck asked.

Gabriel nodded. He said, "I just didn't know that this was what you wanted to read me."

"I don't have to read it, I mean, it's okay, we can just-"

"No, it's fine," Gabriel said, "I'll just need a drink or ten." He snapped his fingers, making a bottle of whiskey appear in his other hand. He took a large swig of it and motioned for Chuck to continue.

Gabriel didn't know the boys' side of the story. He just knew his.

If he had known Sam and Dean's plan, maybe he would've done things differently.

* * *

Before listening to Chuck read, while the end of the world was still raging on, before everything that happened, happened, Gabriel was just trying to find a way to help the Winchesters. Aside from fighting his brothers, which wouldn't actually help anything since they were much stronger, Gabriel really didn't know what to do.

Well, he had an idea. It was just a really, really stupid idea.

But then, Gabriel felt Sam drinking demon blood. It was strange. Gabriel had been feeling Sam being nervous and agitated for weeks, but feeling the kid power up like that, feeling the blood clear out the nerves from Sam's head, that really got his attention.

And that decided it. Stupid idea was better than no idea at all.

Gabriel walked out into the hallway of the apartment complex he was loitering in. The lights flickered above him, but Gabriel paid no mind. He knew it was his own power causing it. But it wasn't enough. His power would never be enough to save Sam. At least not without help.

A woman stepped outside her door and locked it behind her. She adjusted the bag on her shoulder, and Gabriel slammed her into the wall. The woman let out a terrified shriek.

"This is going to hurt. I'm sorry," Gabriel said quietly. He reached his hand into the woman's chest straight to the soul he could see shining so brightly within the human.

Gabriel paused. Could he really do this? Could he really consume a human soul just to stop his brothers? If he did, he'd finally be the monster Sam always feared he really was. But what choice did he have? This was the only way to defeat Lucifer and Michael, and Gabriel knew it. Gabriel took hold of the soul tightly, a gurgled scream ripping from the woman's throat. He could do it. He was the Trickster, damn it. Love for Sam or not, love for humanity or not, this had to be done.

"Gabriel," a voice snapped, "Let her go."

A shiver ran down Gabriel's spine at the sound of that voice. He retracted his hand immediately and stepped away from the woman as she ran down the hall, crying.

"Death," Gabriel said evenly.

The thin, dark-haired man stepped towards Gabriel. "I warn you, do not take souls that are not yours to take," Death said, "I will stop you if I must."

"What else can I do, then? Stand by and watch my brothers destroy everything? I have to do something," Gabriel said.

Death said quietly, "The desperation that you're feeling to stop this is the same desperation humans feel when trying to stop me. It is unbecoming of an archangel."

"Unbecoming?" Gabriel snapped, "Being anything like humans is an honor. They are not beneath angels, Death. Feeling human is probably the best thing that has ever happened to me, so don't you dare tell me that I should stop feeling desperate to save humanity. They are the best of my Father's creations. Don't tell me to lower myself to the level of an archangel when I'm trying to do better than that."

Gabriel was fairly sure that Death was going to reap him right then and there for insubordination if nothing else.

Instead, Death smiled. "Good," he said, "I'm glad you feel that way. The humans deserve to have one of Heaven's finest on their side."

Gabriel wasn't going to question Death's change of heart on the subject of humanity. There wasn't the time. He was probably just testing him anyway.

"Please, what can I do to stop my brothers?" Gabriel asked.

Death held up his hand. Gabriel noticed a stark emptiness where Death's ring normally stood.

"You've already done all you can," Death said, "And it was a job well done."

* * *

Gabriel grimaced at the memory and took another gulp of whiskey. Sam was screaming. Frost and fire devoured Sam, coursing through his soul. Gabriel could feel it. He turned back to Chuck's screen, trying desperately to focus on something else, anything else. If Death had been more helpful, more willing to let Gabriel end the apocalypse himself, maybe...

"The Impala, of course, has all the things other cars have, and a few things they don't," Chuck read out, glancing at Gabriel out of the corner of his eye, "But none of that stuff's important. This is the stuff that's important. The army man that Sam crammed in the ashtray, it's still stuck there. The Legos that Dean shoved into the vents, to this day, heat comes on, and they can hear 'em rattle. These are the things that make the car theirs, really theirs. Even when Dean rebuilt her from the ground up, he made sure all these little things stayed. 'Cause it's the blemishes that make her beautiful. The Devil doesn't know or care what kind of car the boys drive."

"I never noticed the legos before," Gabriel said quietly.

"What was that?" Chuck asked, turning towards Gabriel.

Gabriel said, "I saw the army man plenty of times. I saw their initials carved into the floor in the back. But the legos. I never noticed those. I heard the rattling and just thought the car was old."

"Does it bother you that you didn't notice?" Chuck asked.

Gabriel gave Chuck a look and said, "I agreed to hear you read not let you psychoanalyze me."

"Fair enough," Chuck said, "But for the record, it shouldn't bother you. Not knowing everything about the Winchesters makes them no less important to you."

"Just read," Gabriel said with a sigh. He took another sip of whiskey from the bottle as Chuck continued with what happened to Sam and Dean when they confronted the Devil in Detroit.

Gabriel only wished he'd been there.

Instead of being with Sam and Dean in Detroit, Gabriel had been in Lawrence, Kansas. He was still searching for answers, some solution that hadn't been thought of yet. What better place to search for answers than the place where it all started?

Gabriel stood in the yard of the house where Sam and Dean should've grown up. He could feel the history of the place from where he stood beneath the tree.

He could see John and Mary. John showing Mary the house, showing her the keys to the front door. Mary jumping into John's arms, excited. John and Mary kissing happily in the front yard.

He could see them cooking dinner. John marvelling at how he could've gotten so lucky. Mary loving how normal and domestic and natural it all felt.

Gabriel could see a brief incursion with Anna, Uriel, and Michael using John as a vessel. That didn't yield any answers, though. Michael wanted the apocalypse to happen. What else was new?

He could see John and Mary bringing home a baby. Dean. Young and defenseless but still full of attitude and spunk.

He could see another baby coming home. Sam. So innocent and fragile, nothing like the man he would become.

Gabriel could see fights and laughter and drinking and happiness and everything a dysfunctional household usually had.

He saw the fire.

He saw the poltergeist and the sacrifice of Mary's spirit to save her sons.

There was so much history, so much life.

And there was life within now. A family was getting ready for bed. A mother tucked in her young son and her daughter. Nothing was amiss. They were happy.

They had no idea of the apocalypse looming on the horizon.

Gabriel felt a cold tendril of fear flow through him, but it wasn't his. Sam. It came directly from Sam.

Gabriel turned away from the house in Lawrence, focusing on Sam, listening for the first time in a while.

"So, he knows. It doesn't change anything."

"Sam."

"We don't have any other choice."

"No."

"Yes," Sam said.

The 'yes' echoed through Gabriel's ears. No.

The connection Gabriel felt between him and Sam grew cold, icy cold. No, no, no.

Gabriel flew as fast as his wings could carry him towards Sam. No. This couldn't be happening.

Lucifer flooded into Sam, a white, raging light slamming into Sam's soul.

Gabriel screamed. His grace felt like it was being ripped in two.

The archangel plummeted.

Sam pushed back against Lucifer, but it was no use. No.

Gabriel caught himself before hitting the ground, struggling to breathe, making sure no human could see him. Fuck. Sam, no. Sam. Why? Why would he-

Sam became nothing more than a small, flickering pulse in the back of Gabriel's mind. All he could feel now was Lucifer.

Gabriel stood and flew straight to Detroit. He didn't even stop when he felt the shockwave.

It wasn't the shockwave that would end everything, Gabriel knew it was just Lucifer flexing inside his true vessel, but it was still catastrophic.

The pulse of energy surged from Detroit to everywhere at once. A 7.6 earthquake in Portland, 8.1 in Boston. Earthquakes in Hong Kong, Berlin, Tehran. And there would be tidal waves, hurricanes, tornadoes. And that was only the beginning. Already, Gabriel could feel the screams of the humans as they died, lost to Lucifer's small opening act.

Gabriel landed in the apartment where Lucifer had so recently been. Dean was gone. Sam was...Sam was somewhere. Gabriel could barely feel him, but he seemed to be talking to Lucifer. The tiny pulse that Gabriel knew was Sam was filled with rage and hatred and fear. He'd tried so hard to stop this from happening.

Gabriel dropped to his knees, feeling the cries of the doomed humans. So much pain. It was only going to get worse, and already so much pain. The icy tie that he felt to Sam and Lucifer only grew colder, gripping Gabriel's chest in an icy vice. This was the end.

There had to be something he could do.

* * *

Chuck cleared his throat, looking at Gabriel, concerned. "Are you sure you want to keep going? You look awful," he said.

Gabriel took a deep breath, trying his best to ignore Sam's screaming.

"Yes, keep going. I'm fine."

Chuck said, "You know, I could-"

"No," Gabriel said quickly, "It's fine. I can handle it. Read."

Chuck sighed and kept reading. "In between jobs, Sam and Dean would sometimes get a day, sometimes a week, if they were lucky. They'd pass the time lining their pockets. Sam used to insist on honest work, but now he hustles pool, like his brother."

Gabriel never got to play a game of pool with Sam.

"They could go anywhere and do anything. They drove 1,000 miles for an Ozzy Show, two days for a Jayhawks game. And when it was clear, they'd park her in the middle of nowhere, sit on the hood and watch the stars for hours without saying a word."

There would be no more stars for Sam. No sitting on the hood. No spending time with Dean. Sam would never have any of that again. A tear sprang loose from Gabriel's eye and traveled down his face. Sam had deserved so much more than fate had given him.

Chuck looked over at Gabriel but continued, "Maybe they never really had a roof and four walls... But they were never, in fact, homeless."

Chuck paused, and Gabriel looked at him.

"What?" Gabriel asked.

Chuck said, "That's a good line, right? I think it's a good line, but after I wrote it, Dean called and started talking to me about stuff, and I'm pretty sure it's good line, but I'm not really sure, at least not as sure as I was, and-"

"Yes, it's a good line. It's so good, in fact, that I want you to just keep reading and stop pausing every five seconds to ask me what I think or if I'm okay," Gabriel said.

Chuck gave Gabriel a soft smile and continued on.

* * *

Gabriel had stayed in the apartment in Detroit for hours. Part of him was content to just lay there on the floor forever. Lucifer had made Sam kill a bunch of demons that Sam knew from his life. Sam hadn't been willing but also kind of found it cathartic. Gabriel had kind of wanted to puke through the whole thing.

There had to be something he could do, but he'd run out of options. Fighting Lucifer had nearly gotten him killed. Fighting Michael would only amount to the same. Talking to Lucifer had been like talking to a brick wall. Death wouldn't let him take any souls in order to have a shot against his brothers. He could only think of one thing he hadn't tried. Begging. And that probably wouldn't work either.

Still, Gabriel flew back to Lawrence, to Stull Cemetery, to talk to Michael. Unfortunately, he got there just in time to see Michael get hit with a holy fire Molotov cocktail. Really? A holy fire Molotov? That seriously wasn't something Gabriel had seen coming. Instead of landing, Gabriel pressed on, following Michael's true form deep into the woods of Kansas.

A glowing wavelength of Michael's angelic self reached into the dark earth and pulled up a shaking and bewildered Adam Milligan. Adam took one look at Michael's bright magnitude and stuttered out a terrified, "Yes."

Gabriel didn't want to know what his brother had done to that kid to get that kind of a reaction.

Michael slipped back into Adam's form and turned around to face Gabriel. "Brother," he said. Gabriel felt Sam shout as Lucifer killed Castiel.

"Michael, please, don't do this," Gabriel said, "It takes two to fight. Just walk away. Please."

Michael narrowed his eyes. "Funny. Lucifer just tried selling me the same line. He said we should just walk off the chess board," he said.

"Lucifer is right," Gabriel said. He felt Sam cringe, growing weaker by the minute as his body obeyed Lucifer and threw Dean against the Impala's windshield.

Michael closed the distance between him and Gabriel with menacing speed. "You're siding with him?" he hissed.

Gabriel said, "Think about all the people that are going to die if you do this."

"Think about all the people that will die if I let Lucifer run free," Michael snapped. Lucifer broke Bobby's neck, and Gabriel tried to ignore Sam's cries.

"Michael, brother, please," Gabriel said, "I can't-"

"You can't what?" Michael said angrily.

"I can't lose any more family. Not you, not Raphael, not the fledglings, not even Lucifer. We've lost so many of us already," Gabriel said. Sam screamed, railing hard in his own mind, as his hands pulled Dean off the hood of their car and punched him hard across the face.

Michael slammed Gabriel into the nearest tree. He shouted, "Family?! Family! You're going to try to pull the family card? Really, Gabriel, that is low even for you. You left us. You abandoned us for a bunch of fake pagan leeches, and you think you can manipulate me into thinking you care? Dad left us. Lucifer was gone. I needed what was left of my family, and you were gone, too. I need my family now, and you're still against me."

"Michael," Gabriel tried. Sam shouted for Dean, begged Lucifer to stop, to listen.

"Lucifer wants to walk off the playing field, Castiel threw holy fire at me, and now this? Do I have any loyal family left?" Michael snapped, "You're right, Gabriel. We have lost enough family. It is for that reason alone that I'm letting you live. But I am a loyal son, and I have to kill Lucifer."

Michael released Gabriel and extended his wings, ready to take flight. Lucifer punched Dean repeatedly across the face, and Gabriel felt Sam cry out with each one.

"Michael," Gabriel said, desperate to make his brother see reason, "Dad told us to love humanity over all else, even Him. That is the primary mission for all angels, and you know it. How can you justify killing half of the humans for this?"

Michael said quietly, "By saving half of them from Lucifer's wrath."

A light glinted off the Impala, attracting Sam's attention away from his broken brother.

Gabriel froze. The tiny pulse in the back of his mind was fixated by something. Gabriel could feel Lucifer pause in confusion, too, fist held high for another punch.

Michael looked at Gabriel curiously. "Gabriel?"

Sam was focusing intently on the army man that he'd jammed in the ashtray in the back of the Impala all those years ago, remembering he'd put it there to be a lookout for the others, remembering how Dean laughed at him when he couldn't pull it back out. Dean. Sam was clinging to his memories of Dean.

Michael studied Gabriel's face closer. "Gabriel, what's going on with you? You don't seem like you're fully here."

"Sam," Gabriel said.

"Sam?" Michael asked. But then, he focused on the battlefield, too.

Sam remembered Dean shoving the Legos in the air vent. Dean and Sam carving their initials in the floor. Sam giving Dean crap for still having a cassette tape collection. Sam and Dean leaning on the Impala, sitting in the Impala. Dean waking Sam up. Singing together in the Impala. Sam waking up with a spoon in his mouth. Dean playing drums with the steering wheel. Sam startling Dean awake in the passenger seat. Sam and Dean in SWAT gear after the job with the shifter at the bank. Dean pulling his gun out of the glove box. Dean singing before a job, singing before going to Hell. Talking in the car. Driving in the car. The good times in the Impala, the bad times. The good times with his brother, the bad times with him, too. Everything they'd been through together culminating in the hug Dean had greeted Sam with after selling his soul to save Sam's life. Sam remembered the love he had for his brother. Sam remembered love.

And he was back.

Sam came screaming back to life inside Gabriel's head as Lucifer became a quiet, cold background noise.

Holy shit, Sam Fucking Winchester. Just when he thought that kid couldn't surprise him anymore.

"Way to go, kiddo!" Gabriel shouted with a laugh. He'd never ever been more proud of that kid. Holy crap.

Michael looked at Gabriel. "How do you know what just happened? What just happened?" he asked.

"Sam is back in town, bro!" Gabriel said, grinning.

"How can you tell just by watching and listening?" Michael asked, searching Gabriel's eyes intently, "I can't even see him because of his angel shielding, and you're telling me that you can just-are you connected to him?"

Gabriel didn't answer.

"You connected your grace to his soul! How could you? You know he's been meant for Lucifer since the beginning! How could you do something so-"

"Hey," Gabriel said, holding his hands up innocently, "It was Dad. I didn't-"

"So, Sam really is in control," Michael said. He took off flying towards the battlefield.

Gabriel muttered, "Oh, for fuck's sake." He took off after his brother quickly.

When Gabriel landed, Michael was yelling at Sam and the cage door was open.

"It's my destiny!" Michael shouted.

Sam looked at Dean, sitting on the ground, bloody in front of the Impala.

Sam closed his eyes. Gabriel wanted to scream, to call to him, to talk him out of this.

But it was the only way to save the world.

Gabriel turned himself invisible. Just in case Sam opened his eyes, Gabriel didn't want to be the reason why Lucifer was still out of the box.

Michael lunged for Sam, but Sam grabbed him and threw him off balance. Gabriel rushed forward, but stopped. It was too late. There was no saving anyone from the cage without jumping in and joining them himself.

The hole burst with a bright light and coughed up the Horsemen's rings.

And they were gone.

Dean cried, having lost his brother to Lucifer's cage. Gabriel stood, stunned and invisible, having lost two brothers and the love of his life to Lucifer's cage. There were not words to describe the loss that was felt.

Dean knelt by where the hole had been, bleeding and crying, staring into the spot where Sam fell.

Gabriel knew he couldn't keep quiet for long. He couldn't find words, he couldn't muster tears, but there was a scream building in him that he'd never be able to the stop. Dean needed to leave. If Dean knew Gabriel was around, he'd try to get him to hop in the cage to save Sam. The fact that that was already on Gabriel's mind would make it incredibly hard to say no to Dean. Dean really needed to leave.

Gabriel waved a hand and created an illusion of Castiel.

Cas appeared next to Dean. Slowly, Dean looked up.

"Cas, you're alive?" Dean asked.

"I'm better than that," Cas said. He reached forward and healed Dean's injuries.

What.

Gabriel could barely spare the energy from controlling his grief to stare at Cas with wide eyes. Gabriel made an illusion, nothing more. In order to heal somebody, you needed grace. Gabriel couldn't create grace. Not only that but this Cas felt like Cas. He was the real Castiel. Gabriel couldn't resurrect other angels. The only person who could was...Dad?

Cas healed Bobby, bringing him back to life. Within minutes, the three of them got in their cars and left.

Gabriel's shock had worn off enough that he felt the weight of his loss with renewed vigor. He looked at the place in the ground that had swallowed up his family. He couldn't hold it back anymore.

Gabriel dropped to his knees, slammed his fists into the ground and screamed. His cry reverberated around him, running along his wings through each feather, his release of power making the grass quiver. But his scream slowly dissolved into sobs. He'd lost Sam and two of his brothers. Nothing could've prepared him for that.

A hand rested on Gabriel's shoulder. Gabriel jerked back and looked up at Chuck.

"Chuck?" Gabriel asked.

Chuck smiled warmly at Gabriel and said, "Sure, you can call me that, but I also accept 'Dad'."

Gabriel stood up, eyes wide. "Dad?"

Chuck nodded, something sad playing in his smile. He looked over at where Sam, Lucifer, and Michael had fallen into Hell. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Gabriel wondered if his Father meant that apology for him or for his brothers.

Chuck looked at Gabriel and said, "I can take the connection with Sam away if you'd like. I'm sure you wouldn't like to feel what's going on down there."

"No," Gabriel said, "No, it's okay. It's...it's all I have left."

Chuck nodded, understanding, and said, "Come on. Let me show you something I just wrote."

* * *

"Endings are hard," Chuck said, glancing over at Gabriel yet again.

Gabriel sighed. That was a fucking understatement.

"Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch, there's always gonna be holes. And since it's the ending, it's all supposed to add up to something. I'm tellin' you, they're a raging pain in the ass."

"Did you really write that?" Gabriel asked.

Chuck said, "Yep. Right there. I'm hoping it gets me some sympathy, because these readers are intense, and this is the last book that's gonna get out there."

Gabriel nodded, trying hard to feel like that mattered at all while Sam was screaming and burning in the Pit.

Chuck read off some more about Dean and Cas in the car. Gabriel wondered if that line about choosing between peace and freedom was something Cas actually said or something that Chuck came up with.

"Is Dean really going to hunt you down?" Gabriel asked.

Chuck laughed and said, "He can try, but he won't be able to find me."

"Are you leaving again?" Gabriel asked slowly.

Chuck turned away from his computer and faced his son. "Yes," he said, "This book might be enough for Dean to connect the dots. I doubt it, but Dean has shocked me a few times now. You can come with me if you want."

Gabriel said, "Don't get me wrong, having a dad could be nice, but it's a little-"

"Too little, too late?" Chuck asked.

"Yeah, and you did just let everyone I care about get stuck in a cage in Hell. Mix that with close quarters, and I might start siding with Dean about you."

"So, what are you gonna do?"

Gabriel sighed. "I'll probably get very drunk and have a lot of sex," he said.

Chuck smiled and said, "Glad to hear it. I hope you have fun."

Gabriel again felt the ice and fire torturing Sam's soul. It was going to be a long eternity. He leaned his head on Chuck's shoulder. "You gonna keep reading?" he asked.

Chuck continued, "This is the last Dean and Bobby will each other for a very long time. And, for the record, at this point next week, Bobby will be hunting a rugaru outside of Dayton. But not Dean. Dean didn't want Cas to save him. Every part of him, every fiber he's got, wants to die or find a way to bring Sam back."

Gabriel knew the feeling well.

"But he isn't gonna do either," Chuck read, "Because he made a promise."

"Lisa? Really?" Gabriel said, "C'mon, Dean has to know the only reason Sam even said to go to Lisa and not be happy with Cas was because Dean's so far in the closet that-"

Chuck gave Gabriel a look.

"Yeah, I know. Dean's in the closet. He wouldn't even think about having a life with Cas. I get it," Gabriel said.

Chuck laughed softly and continued, "So, what's it all add up to? It's hard to say. But me, I'd say this was a test for Sam and Dean, and I think they did alright. Up against good, evil, angels, devils, destiny, and God himself, they made their own choice. They chose family, and well, isn't that kinda the whole point?"

Gabriel looked at the screen and saw the words 'The End' where Chuck had stopped.

"So, what do you think?" Chuck asked.

Gabriel took a deep breath. What did he think? Chuck had written a nice account of the man he loved jumping to his demise in a hole to Hell. He looked at his Father.

"What do I think?" Gabriel said, "Why does it have to end there?"

"It has to end somewhere," Chuck said.

"But why there?" Gabriel said, irritated at the wetness in his eyes, "It could end years from now. You could give Sam a chance to be happy. You could-"

Chuck put a hand on Gabriel's shoulder. Suddenly, the screaming stopped, the pain stopped. Gabriel blinked. Where was Sam? He couldn't feel Sam.

Gabriel looked up at Chuck. "Put it back," he said, "Put the connection back."

"No," Chuck said softly, "I can't."

"Yes, you can. Please, Dad, please," Gabriel said, tears beginning to fall steadily.

Chuck pulled Gabriel into a hug. At first, Gabriel pushed against him, but he stopped and let his Father hold him.

"I'm not going to let you spend the rest of forever feeling that kind of pain. I can't let you do that to yourself," Chuck said.

Gabriel hugged Chuck back and sobbed into his Father's shoulder.

Chuck rubbed Gabriel's back. He said softly, "I know. Endings are hard. But then again, nothing really ends, does it? Sam and your brothers will always be with you in one way or another."

Chuck's attempt at comfort fell on deaf ears. Gabriel didn't want comfort. He wanted Sam back. But he hoped his Dad was right. He hoped that nothing really did end.


	18. First Born

So much had happened.

Sam was hardly the man he'd been when he'd been lucky enough to know Gabriel.

It had been years.

Sam burned and broke in the cage. Cas raised him back up, soulless. Death retrieved his soul. Castiel broke the walls in Sam's mind that kept Hell at bay. Sam hallucinated Lucifer while sitting in a mental hospital. Cas took the broken parts of Sam into himself. They defeated the Leviathans. Sam hit a dog and met Amelia. He started hunting again once Dean got back from Purgatory.

And then the trials.

And the church.

Death.

Ezekiel...or Gadreel, rather. Dean tricked him into giving up his own autonomy to some angel just so Sam wouldn't die. Dean. His own brother. Mr. Team Free Will, himself. He decided that Sam wasn't allowed to make his own decision.

And then Kevin...

All of this came to pass without Gabriel.

At first it was hard, Sam having to remember that his archangel was dead, having to remember that the only archangel that gave a shit died for them. As time passed and months became years, Sam only thought of Gabriel occasionally.

So much had happened.

"Hey," Sam said, stepping inside the bunker.

Cas muttered, "Tastes like molecules."

"What? What're you talking about?" Sam asked.

Sam walked down the steps to find Cas eating a sandwich. The angel wasn't human anymore, so the scene was more than a little odd. Dean would've found it endearing, but Dean wasn't around anymore. He'd left to hunt down Gadreel on his own. Sam wasn't exactly upset about it. He needed some time away from his brother after learning that Dean had allowed him to be Gadreel's vessel without his knowledge. Still, Dean would've loved this sight of Cas.

"When I was human, y'know, I-I had to eat constantly. It was kind of annoying," Cas said.

"Yeah," Sam said, "A lot of human things're pretty annoying."

"But I enjoyed the taste of food, particularly peanut butter and grape jelly. Not jam. Jam I found unsettling."

Sam put his shopping bag down and sat on the table. "So, what? You can't taste PB & J?" he asked, stealing a dab of the grape jelly and tasting it.

"No," Cas said, "I taste every molecule." He put a dab of peanut butter in his mouth.

Sam asked, "Not the sum of its parts, huh?"

"It's overwhelming," Cas said, "It's disgusting."

Sam tried to imagine what it would be like to taste food so much that you couldn't enjoy it. He couldn't. Being human was really tough on Cas. At least before, Cas didn't know what he was missing when it came to food. Sam couldn't help but feel a little sympathetic for the angel.

Cas looked at his sandwich sadly and said, "I miss you, PB & J." He took a breath and stood up. "We need to continue your healing," he said, "We're almost done."

Sam closed his eyes, and Cas put two fingers to Sam's forehead.

Sam looked at Cas. Normally, he could feel Cas' energy when it entered him. Now, nothing was happening. Cas looked confused. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Cas said quickly.

Sam smacked Cas' hand away and said, "You're a terrible liar."

"That is not true," Cas said, seemingly offended, "I once deceived and betrayed both you and your brother."

"That's not the point. Cas, what's wrong?" Sam asked.

"I noticed something. It's, uh, resonating inside you," Cas said.

"What?"

"Something angelic."

Sam asked, "Okay, uh, the hell does that mean?"

"Maybe we should call Dean," Cas said.

Sam looked away. He tried to look back at Cas, but he couldn't. There was still too much hurt over what Dean had done. Talk about betrayal. Cas was probably the only one Sam could trust right now. Dean had stabbed him in the back and betrayed every ounce of trust Sam had to give. And Kevin was...

"No," Sam said, getting up off the table, "He wanted to go, and he's gone. We'll handle this." He sat down in a chair this time and reached for the book in front of him.

Cas sat down beside him and kept further comments about Dean to himself.

An hour later, the two of them were in the Men of Letters library, scouring through books for any ideas about Sam's partially angelic condition.

"I found...something," Cas said, "It's a detail about when angels leave their vessels. I think. It's enochian, which can be a bit flowery."

Sam drew closer, resting his arms on a book rack. Sam wanted nothing more than to figure this out and be done with Gadreel and anything else angelic inside of him.

Cas read aloud, "And the departed shall remain, and the remains shall be the departed."

Sam said, "Okay. So, when an angel leaves a vessel, they leave behind a piece of themselves. Like a-like an angelic fingerprint."

"Whatever you want to call it," Cas said, "This piece of the departed contains grace."

"Wait, you're saying there's angelic grace inside of me?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Cas said, "But it's fading each time I heal you."

Cas started walking towards a table with a book.

"Okay, so is that good or bad?" Sam asked.

Cas said, "Well, it's harmless, but the grace itself might be helpful." He flipped through some folders and paperwork until he came up with a case file called 'The Inner Workings of Angels.' "According to this," he said, "We may be able to use the grace that remains inside you to track Gadreel. If we can extract it."

Sam was game. Sam was all in. Sam wanted to catch Gadreel and make him pay for what he'd done. "How would we do that?" he asked.

"Well, painfully," Cas said. He held open the folder enough to give Sam a look at a design for a very large syringe.

Needles. Great. Sam was still all in.

Cas said, "The Men of Letters believed that you could perform a tracking spell with extracted grace, but they were never able to test the theory."

"Well, they didn't have a guinea pig, but we do," Sam said.

"You have a guinea pig?" Cas asked, "Where?"

Sam struggled not to sigh. Cas had gotten much better at recognizing colloquialisms, but this one was apparently still beyond him. "Me, Cas. I'm the guinea pig," he said.

"Oh," Cas said.

Sam reached forward and flipped over the needle design to see a picture of the needle after it had actually been created.

"Any idea where that is?" Cas asked.

Sam actually did have a pretty decent idea. Something like that would probably be up in the archives with the other angel-based contraptions.

Sam and Cas headed upstairs to look through some boxes. There were some questionable looking hemostats, a pair of handcuffs, a box of angel feathers, some kind of metal thing that looked like some sort of suction device but Sam really couldn't be sure.

Cas pushed aside a jar with burbling green ooze at the bottom. "It don't know what that stuff is," he said, "But I found the syringe." He picked up a small box and handed it to Sam.

They headed back downstairs.

"Can I ask you a question?" Cas asked.

Sam said, "You just did."

Cas asked, "Can I ask you another question?"

"Well, technically, you-" Sam said, realizing that this joke that he and Dean used to pull on each other would probably continue forever with Cas, "Yeah, go ahead. What's up?"

Cas stopped and faced Sam. "Sam, the trials," he said.

Sam gave a small, breathy laugh. The trials. Right. The most painful waste of time he'd ever gone through.

"You chose not to go through with them for a reason, didn't you?" Cas asked, "You chose to live rather than to sacrifice yourself. You and Dean chose each other."

Sam saw where Cas was going with this. "Yeah, I did. We did. And then...Dean made a choice for me."

"What Dean did-" Cas started. Sam walked into the hallway.

"It doesn't matter what Dean did," Sam said, "Look, I could have put a stop to all this, Cas. I could have closed the gates of Hell."

"Oh, Sam-" Cas tried. Sam walked into what he and Dean had dubbed 'The Operating Room.'

"Dean's gone, okay?" Sam snapped, "This is on me now, and if I can find Gadreel, I can fix this. Now. Being a human means settling your debts." He took off his plaid flannel, placed it next to the operating chair, and handed Cas the box with the large syringe. "Let's start balancing the books."

Cas took the box reluctantly, and Sam sat down in the chair. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, but he had to do this.

Cas opened the box and picked up the needle.

Sam took a deep breath.

"You're sure about this?" Cas asked.

Sam nodded. "Do it," he said.

Cas held Sam's head against the headrest with gentle but steady pressure. Slowly, he inserted the needle just under Sam's jawline. It was horribly uncomfortable, a sharp pain that stung as much as it pinched.

"Now comes that part that will actually hurt," Cas said.

Sam glanced at him, unsure for a moment. But he could do this. He could handle pain.

"I'm going to begin the extraction," Cas said.

Cas pulled back on the plunger, and Sam stiffened. It felt like Cas was trying to pull Sam's muscle through the tip of the needle. Sam tried his best to control his reactions, knowing Cas would not be comfortable with causing him undue pain. It still hurt like a bitch, though.

"Is it working?" Sam managed to ask.

Cas sighed and said, "Yeah."

"But?" Sam asked, concerned at Cas' subdued sigh.

"I-I need to push the needle in deeper," Cas said, "We need more grace in order to cast the spell."

Sam was already struggling not to squirm or scream from the pain. But it was worth it.

"Okay, do it," Sam said.

"Sam," Cas said, "If I get too close to-"

"Damn it, Cas. Just do it," Sam said. He didn't have the energy to push through the pain and have an ethical debate with Cas.

Cas pushed the needle in further. Sam's vision blurred a bit. Normal people would probably have lost consciousness from how much it hurt.

A flood of memories smashed into Sam's awareness. Gadreel flooding Sam's body with grace to save them from demons. Gadreel causing Sam's eyes to flash blue with angelic intent. The pain of the trials.

Sam was barely aware of how much he squirmed and groaned from the pain.

Cas pulled the syringe out.

Sam gasped, holding a hand to his neck. He couldn't catch his breath. "What the hell was that?" he asked.

"Your body is regressing to the state it was in before Gadreel," Cas said.

Sam asked, "Do we have enough grace for the summoning spell?"

"Sam," Cas said, voice thick with concern.

"Do we or not, Cas?" Sam asked.

Cas said a very reluctant, "No."

Sam caught his breath as best he could and removed his hand from his neck. He had to do this. No matter the cost. "Then keep going," he said.

Cas hesitated for a moment before pushing the needle back in.

Sam grunted in pain, his eyes closing weakly. He had to do this. He had to be of some use.

"Sam?" Cas called, worried.

Sam said, "Keep going."

"Why?" Cas asked.

"We-we-," Sam said, his voice growing weak, "We have to find Gadreel."

"No," Cas said, "Why must the Winchesters run toward death?"

Cas started to pull the needle out, but Sam grabbed his hand before he could.

"No, don't. Don't-don't stop," Sam said.

Cas said, "Sam, when I was human, I died."

Sam still struggled to keep Cas from taking out the needle. But he couldn't fight both Cas and the pain at the same time.

Cas continued, "And that showed me that life is precious and it must be protected at all costs, even a life as...as pig-headed as a Winchester's."

Sam dropped his hand from the needle. He was so tired. He needed to do this.

"My life isn't worth more than anyone else's," Sam said quietly, "Not yours or Dean's. Or Kevin's. Please. Please, help me do one thing right. Keep going." He had to do this. He had to do this for Kevin. It was the very least he could do.

Cas pushed the syringe further in, so much further that Sam couldn't hold back anymore. He cried out from the pain.

It wasn't long after that that Sam started bleeding. He wasn't fully aware of it, but he could feel his nose dripping. Everything else hurt so much more that he barely noticed it. But that was okay. It didn't matter. It was just blood, just life, nothing that Sam wasn't willing to lose.

He knew his strength was fading, he knew he'd die from the state he was in before Gadreel. But after Kevin, he deserved this. His life wasn't a life worth living anyways. He was so, so tired.

"Hold on," Cas said softly, "This may pinch." He pulled the syringe out.

Sam blinked wearily. He tried to turn towards Cas. "Cas, what the hell?" he asked with a raspy whisper.

Cas placed two fingers on Sam's forehead. Sam felt Cas' grace surge through him like a lightning bolt.

Sam writhed for a moment and sat up quickly, feeling his neck, confused. "Cas," he gasped, "What the hell was that?"

"I've healed your wounds completely," Cas said.

"And the grace?" Sam asked.

Cas said, "Well, whatever grace was inside you is gone now. What's left of Gadreel is in here. We'll just have to try the spell with what we have."

Cas put the syringe with the last of Gadreel's grace back in the box.

"Damn it," Sam said. Why didn't Cas keep going? He should've pulled the rest of the grace out.

Cas faced Sam. "Sam, I want Gadreel to pay as much as you do," he said, "But nothing is worth losing you."

Sam looked up at Cas. He didn't know how to feel about that.

"You know, being human, it didn't just change my view of food," Cas said, "It changed my view of you. I mean, I can relate now to how you feel."

Sam wasn't sure where this was going. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

Cas said softly, "The only person who has screwed things up more consistently than you is me."

Sam dropped his gaze. He knew what Cas was trying to say, but he wasn't sure it was something he wanted to hear.

"And now I know what that guilt feels like. And I know what it-I know what it means to feel sorry, Sam. I am sorry," Cas said.

Sam said, "I know."

"You know, old me-I would've just kept going. I would've jammed that needle in deeper until you died, because the ends always justified the means. But what I went through-well, that PB & J taught me that angels can change, so who knows? Maybe Winchesters can, too."

Sam sat there in silence as Cas left the room. Maybe Cas was right. Maybe he could break the cycle of fucking everything up. Maybe he would be more good alive than dead. It just felt so strange to hear Cas say those words. It felt good, hearing that someone cared about him, but strange. It warmed him to know that at least one angel saw value in him.

Sam followed after Cas to see if the spell could work. They put the concoction together, and Cas poured in what little grace there was.

The grace made the water bubble up with a dazzling display of celestial light, but nothing else happened.

"Was that, uh, was that it?" Sam asked.

Cas looked at Sam and said, "I'm afraid there wasn't enough grace. We'll have to find Gadreel another way. I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam braced himself on the table. Of course there wasn't enough grace. But Cas was right. Finding Gadreel wasn't worth dying over.

"It's alright, Cas," Sam said, "You, uh, you were right. You were right about everything."

If it had been up to Sam, he wouldn't be alive. Cas had saved him from himself. And Sam was grateful.

Sam hugged Cas tightly. There was a lot of pain inside Sam after everything that had happened, but maybe Cas could relate. Maybe Sam wasn't as alone as he felt.

"Now's the part where you hug back," Sam said over Cas' shoulder.

"Oh," Cas said, "Right. Uh, sorry." He reached up to hug Sam back awkwardly.

Sam said, "Ah, there you go."

Sam broke off the hug and patted Cas' shoulder and neck. He didn't know how else to show his appreciation, at least not in a way that Cas would understand.

"As far as I'm concerned," Cas said, "Metatron is the key to fixing everything that's wrong. I'm gonna find him." He put a hand on Sam's shoulder before starting to walk away.

Sam felt terrible. He hated that they hadn't had enough grace to work the spell, but he really hated that he'd been willing to die for it. He hated that he wanted to die.

"You know, Sam, we could use all the help we could get to find Gadreel and Metatron," Cas said.

Sam nodded and said, "We got this." This was just one setback. They'd find them. Gadreel and Metatron would pay.

Cas left, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts. There had been a time that Sam enjoyed life, but it was long gone. Everything was pain, and more often than not, he couldn't see the point to living anymore. But Cas was right. Cas cared and knew that working on fixing some of this nightmare would help Sam find purpose. It was something that Gabriel would've known to do. Having an angel care about him so much felt so familiar that it made Sam long for death in a different way. He didn't know where angels went when they died, but if there was any chance that Sam could see Gabriel again, Heaven was where that chance would be.

But Cas was right. He had to keep going. They had work to do.


	19. Meta Fiction

"Would you like to hear a story?"

Gabriel looked around. He had been in a hot tub with five nymphs. One of them had been feeding him chocolate covered strawberries. Now, he stood in a cozy office with a roaring fire in the hearth, classical music playing on a record player, 'Supernatural' books strewn about the floor.

"You summoned me from what most would consider paradise to ask me if I want to hear a story?" Gabriel asked, giving Metatron a taking-no-shit look.

"Oh, it's a good story. You'll like it. Come on, have a seat," Metatron said, gesturing to the open seat in front of his desk.

Gabriel said, "I'm fine over here."

"Here, I'll just give you a little taste. Once upon a time, an archangel fell in love with a human. What a wonderful story so far, right?" Metatron said with an impish grin.

"That's cute," Gabriel said, "What do you want?"

"No, no. I didn't finish the story," Metatron said, "The human was cursed, born to be the Devil's vessel, and the poor human fell down into the cage while the archangel watched."

Gabriel snapped, "I know what happened. I was there."

"But that's not the end of the tale, Gabriel," Metatron said quickly, "The archangel fled, never to be seen or heard from again, but the angel, Castiel...he got crafty. His best friend was in a hole in the ground, his love had gone off to live with another. So, the Little Angel That Could raised the human from the cage."

Gabriel's breath caught. This had to be a lie. Gabriel himself couldn't have saved Sam. There was no way that Castiel could swing that. "That's impossible," he said.

"Oh, of course. A small time garrison angel could never rescue a soul from Lucifer's cage," Metatron said, "But he could easily create a body and memories from the earth."

"Are you telling me Sam's walking around with no soul?" Gabriel asked. His mind was already starting to race.

"You really don't want to just listen to the story, do you?"

"You have my attention," Gabriel said, sitting in front of Metatron's desk.

"Good. Now, the human had no soul, wreaking havoc as the soulless tend to do. But his brother had friends in high places. Death himself rescued the human's soul."

Gabriel shot back to his feet. "My God...Sam must be nearly dead from all that time in the cage. With what his soul's been through-"

Metatron said, "Sit down. This was years ago. Let me finish."

Gabriel sat back down slowly. Why was Metatron telling him all of this?

Metatron continued, "The human, now whole, needed a wall in his mind, keep the Hell from spilling out, but that angel, Castiel, was playing God. He tore the wall down. The poor human lost his mind. But then, the angel Castiel...he took the insanity and fixed the human. After a trip to purgatory, the angel, too, was sane."

"What does this have to do with Sam now?" Gabriel asked.

Metatron said, "I'm getting there. All the best stories are long, Gabriel. Anyway, the human found a prophet, thought he could perform the trials to close the gates of Hell."

"But he would die!"

"That he learned. He was not, shall I say, overly concerned about dying. But his brother, his brother wouldn't let him die. He tricked his brother into letting an angel inside. It was a fallen angel named Gadreel. You may remember him. He let the snake into the garden."

Gabriel was on his feet again. "Gadreel is in Sam?!" he roared.

"Sit, sit. He was in Sam. They forced him out. Here's where the story gets interesting," Metatron said, "The scribe of Heaven...me...saw some potential in Castiel. Angels had backed him before, and I needed a false idol. How else could I truly be the new God without their knowledge that I alone can be trusted? That's where you come in, Gabriel. I knew Castiel would not willingly lead angels against me, I knew he'd need to be taught. And you were always so good at teaching lessons. It's up to you to decide where the story goes from here."

Gabriel asked, "You want me to get Castiel to fight you?"

"Yes."

"What if he wins?"

"He won't."

"What if I say no?"

"You won't."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Gabriel said. He moved to snap his fingers when Metatron held up a hand.

The scribe said, "I wouldn't be so hasty. See, there's always a moral to the story. This one is pretty simple. Gadreel used your human as a vessel. He left grace inside him. I control Gadreel. I wrote the angel tablet. If you don't help me get Castiel to play his role, I will use that grace to destroy Sam Winchester."

Gabriel dropped his archangel blade into his hand and took a step towards Metatron.

"I wouldn't do that," Metatron warned.

"Good thing I'm not you, then," Gabriel said. He sunk his blade deep into Metatron's chest.

Metatron smirked and met Gabriel's gaze. He said, "I already told you, I'm the new God. Now, do we have a deal or not?"

Gabriel glared at Metatron. He wasn't about to lose Sam after so recently realizing the kid was alive. Of course, that was assuming Metatron wasn't lying. Gabriel couldn't risk it. "What do you need me to do?" he asked.

Metatron grinned widely, and Gabriel resisted the urge to punch his teeth in.

Metatron gestured behind Gabriel. Gabriel turned to see Castiel, unconscious and tied to a chair. Shit.

"I'm going to give you a script," Metatron said, "I'll let you put your own spin on it, but if you deviate too much, Sam will be in for a world of hurt. Got it?"

Gabriel nodded.

Castiel was in his motel room when Gabriel arrived. His entrance had to be perfect. Flawless. Metatron was watching, so Gabriel needed to make this authentic.

The TV in Cas' room turned on. Cas tried turning it off, but it didn't work. Like the turn of a knob would ever thwart Gabriel's theatrics. Please.

"Sometimes, you need a break from the hustle and bustle of city life. #AmIRite?" the woman in the Casa Erotica 14 video said, "Sometimes, you need #CasaErotica. Casa Erotica."

"That's inappropriate," Castiel said. Gabriel really needed to help his baby bro loosen up at some point.

A knock came at the woman's door. She got off the bed in ankle-breaking heels and walked seductively to the door. She opened the door to reveal Gabriel in his full porn-star mustachioed glory.

"Hello," Gabriel said, "Remember me, bucko?"

"Gabriel," Cas muttered, shocked.

Gabriel removed his porn-stache and said, "I'm gonna take that as a yes." He tossed the mustache, snapped his fingers, and the TV went dark.

Gabriel appeared behind Castiel. Seeing Cas again made him feel this small sort of affection for the guy. He missed Cas. And Dean. And Sam. Especially Sam. Everything about his old life, really. He needed to find a way to tip off Cas about Metatron. Metatron was clearly not up to anything good. Gabriel needed to protect Sam, but he also needed to protect his brother.

Castiel slowly turned around.

Gabriel said, "I need your help, brother."

When Cas recovered from his shock, he said, "I thought you were dead."

"Please. You can't take the trick out of the Trickster," Gabriel said.

Cas said, "So, I assume you faked your own death."

"And I assume you weren't let into MENSA while I was gone," Gabriel said. He fought a smile at his quip. He needed to let Cas know something was amiss. He wished he'd been closer to Cas as brothers. Maybe they'd have codewords like the Winchesters. It would be so easy to sneak 'Funkytown' into conversation instead of hope Cas could catch some really, very subtle hints that hopefully Metatron wouldn't notice.

"Where have you been?" Castiel asked.

"Oh, you know," Gabriel said, "Hither a side of Yon. I was hiding, Captain Side Eyes. In the safest place in the universe. Heaven. But then you and the other two stooges had to go a ruin Christmas, now, didn't ya?"

"Sorry," Cas said.

"Oh, cry me a river," Gabriel said. He turned away from Cas to conceal his reaction. Holy shit. Sam really was alive. Cas would've asked who the other stooge was, he would've said something. Sam was alive. Holy fucking shit.

He composed his face after a second and turned back to his brother. "Look, I dropped, I hid. I finally watched 'Downton Abbey.' But then, your BFF, Metatron, sent his minions out looking for me. Apparently, he thinks since I'm an archangel that I have extra juice."

"And that you're a threat," Cas said.

"Yeah, but I got hurt in the fall, too. Used most of my juice to get back into porn. That came out wrong. So did that," Gabriel said, "Uh, the point is, I've been on the run. But then, a few weeks ago, somebody started playing my song."

"The angel siren."

"No. The Horn of Gabriel. One of Dad's little party favors that I never got around to messing with. Metatron dug it up and started blowing, so I came out of hiding." Gabriel had actually used the Horn once during the war against the Darkness. It was a detail that he hoped Cas would know, but apparently he didn't.

"Why?" Cas asked.

Gabriel said, "There's safety in numbers, but Metatron was using it to trap angels, not unite them." As if that would bother him. After Lucifer got put back in the box, Gabriel had been doing a seriously good job of ignoring Heaven and all the shenanigans they'd been getting up to. It wasn't his problem anymore.

"It wasn't Metatron," Castiel said, "It was his second in command, Gadreel."

"Gadreel? That old chestnut? Wow," Gabriel said.

"What do you want from me?" Cas asked.

"Your help, Columbo," Gabriel said, getting up off of the motel couch, "I'm getting the band back together. We're going on the Kill Metatron Tour, and you're looking at the new front man."

They were in Cas' car, driving Dad knows where, and Castiel had completely let his guard down. Even though it warmed Gabriel's heart to know that Castiel had the capacity to trust him again, now was really not the time. Cas had to know that something was up.

Cas got Dean's voicemail. "Dean, it's me. I'm-" he started.

Gabriel said, "Ho, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hands-free much?" He snatched the phone away from Cas. "Both on the wheel, I'm precious cargo," he said. He spoke into the phone knowing full well the call would go nowhere. "Hey, what's up, shorties? Remember me, the guy who died for your sins? No, not the cat with the beard and sandals-the hot one. Hey, thank you so much for the flowers and condolences, really meant a lot to the fam. Any old how, your boy toy and I are rolling our way towards your top secret domicile. Ooh! Call to discuss."

Gabriel hung up the phone and handed it back to Castiel. "Those kooky kids," he said.

"So, you've been back for months," Cas said, "What have you seen out there?"

"After it was raining winged men, hallelujah?" Gabriel said, looking out the window, "Well, you know-total nigh-biblical chaos, Crowley and Aba-douche duking it out. Good times. And then there's our peeps, scattered like confetti."

"There has been a lot of confusion," Cas said.

"You think?" Gabriel asked, looking back at Cas, "Most angels aren't like us, Castiel. They can't handle this whole free-will thing. They're sheep, drones. But us? We're different. We're rebels, one without a cause, one with."

"I'm just a soldier," Castiel said.

"Bitch, please," Gabriel said, "You've been God more often than Dad has."

Cas chuckled and said, "Yeah, look how that worked out."

"Well, go ahead. Be a soldier all you want. I'm gonna need as many as I can find," Gabriel said.

"Why are you doing this, Gabriel?" Cas asked.

"I always run. From Dad, from the family. I don't want to run anymore. I want to do what I was meant to do. Lead," Gabriel said. Now, if that didn't set off alarm bells for Cas, he didn't know what would. Gabriel? Leading Heaven? Even if he were serious, that sounded like a horrific idea.

"Well, we need a leader," Cas said, "And I'm glad it's gonna be you."

Gabriel wanted to bang his head into something. Instead, he clapped a hand on Cas' shoulder and looked out the window. How on earth could Cas not realize that this was a plan that Gabriel would never follow? How little did his brother know him?

"A little low on gas, aren't we?" Gabriel said. Cas should've questioned how Gabriel knew that while looking out the window. Cas should've questioned why Gabriel wanted to lead now instead of the millions of years before.

Instead, Cas muttered a quiet, "Oh, you're right," and pulled up to the nearest Gas-n-Sip.

They walked inside the gas station. "Ooh, smell that cancer," Gabriel said, "Delicious." Even the Winchesters knew how much he loved sweets and candy. Even Dean would know that he would never call it 'cancer.'

But Cas was just not getting it. Shit. Something had to give this away.

A car drove up full of angry Metatron-lovers.

"Uh, remember the minions of Metatron I told you about?" Gabriel asked, looking towards the door.

Cas was so bad at figuring out this game, he wasn't even listening anymore. Gabriel grabbed Cas' jaw and physically turned his head to look at the angels that were about to try to kill them. Cas saw that they were in danger, and Gabriel locked the gas station door.

"We'll never keep these guys out of here," Gabriel said.

"I know," Castiel said, "So, we fight."

Gabriel said, "No. I fight." He pulled out his angel blade. He'd made this one out of a Pepsi Max can. He turned to Cas and said, "I lied before. I never watched 'Downton Abbey.' I just wanted to fit in. Oh, and I do have some archangel juice left. I can hold these boneheads off long enough."

"Long enough for what?" Cas asked.

Gabriel said, "For you to get out of here."

"No," Cas said, rushing towards Gabriel, "I'm not leaving you."

"Yes, you are," Gabriel said, "Those guys will cut you to ribbons, but I can stall them long enough for you to amscray. And you can take my place."

"What are you talking about?" Cas asked.

"The angels needs a leader, and it's gotta be somebody like us, somebody different."

"No."

"I know you don't want this burden, Castiel," Gabriel said, "Neither do I."

Cas asked, "What if I fail again?"

Gabriel grabbed Cas' shoulder, pulling him closer. "You won't," he said, "You can't."

Castiel hugged Gabriel. Gabriel's heart broke a little. Cas had to notice. He had to feel that something was wrong.

"Thank you," Cas said.

Gabriel said, "Shut up."

Cas turned to leave out the back and stopped. Gabriel faced the oncoming angels but noticed Cas stall.

"Haven't got all day, hotpants," Gabriel said.

"Was any of this real?" Castiel asked.

Gabriel asked, "What the hell are you talking about?"

The angels broke through the front door. Gabriel turned and gave Cas a shove. "Cas, go!" he shouted urgently.

Castiel didn't move.

"So, what?" Gabriel asked, "We both die here?"

"No," Castiel said, "You're already dead."

Cas slid his angel blade into Gabriel's stomach. Since this was Gabriel's illusion, he let the blade slide right in. So, Cas had noticed. Gabriel was a little proud.

"Well," Gabriel said, snapping his fingers and removing the attacking angels, "What gave it all away?"

"My coat was torn earlier today," Cas said.

Gabriel said a half-hearted, "Ah, crap. I really hate continuity errors."

"So, none of this is real, and I'm guessing that I'm no longer in the motel," Cas said.

"Here's the thing," Gabriel said, "None of it was real, but all of it was true."

Cas asked, "Who's truth? Yours or Metatron's?"

"Just hear him out, would you?" Gabriel said, reading directly from the script for once, "He's trying to help you."

"Really?" Cas asked, "How?"

Metatron hadn't prepared an answer to that. Gabriel was glad. He didn't want to dick his brother around anymore. "Sorry," he said with a sheepish grin, "Didn't read the whole script, just, uh, skimmed for my parts."

Gabriel knew it was time to leave, but he stopped for a second and said, "Well, it's good to see you, Old Bean." He raised his hand to snap his fingers.

"Wait," Cas said, "Are you dead?"

Gabriel gave him a look, a look that only the true Trickster could pull off, and bounced his eyebrows. He snapped his fingers.

Gabriel stood in front of Metatron's desk and said, "It's not my fault he figured it out."

Metatron said, "I know, I know. I didn't notice the jacket either."

"I played my part. No fucking with Sam?" Gabriel asked.

"I'm a man of my word," Metatron said.

Gabriel doubted that. He doubted that greatly. "What are you gonna do with Cas?" he asked, looking at his sleeping brother.

"I'm just going to talk to him, get him to see how the story is supposed to go. Don't you worry about it."

Gabriel sighed. He didn't like it, but Metatron was super-charged somehow. He wasn't in a position to do something about it. "Just promise me you won't tell Cas that I'm alive," he said.

Metatron's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Not the promise I thought you'd ask of me," he said, "Aren't you planning on running to the Winchesters' side, helping them sort through all this Heaven and Hell stuff?"

Gabriel sighed. He'd stayed away from Sam for years. At first, it was because he needed to protect him from Lucifer. Then, it was because Gabriel hadn't had a clue that Sam was back. Now, though. Now, it was out of fear. Sam had lived years without him. He'd moved on. He was managing without him. Gabriel's sudden appearance would be startling if not capable of derailing Sam's whole lifestyle. Honestly, the Sam he knew was probably long gone. As was the secretive Trickster that Sam had come to know. Sam was better off without him.

"No," Gabriel said, "No, I've got a hot tub in Haiti with my name on it."

Metatron smiled and said, "So the plot thickens."

Gabriel snapped his fingers and left.

But he didn't go far. He needed to keep an eye on Cas. Whatever Metatron had planned was not good.

So, Gabriel watched. He watched Metatron tell Cas what role he'd like him to play. The joke was on Metatron, though. He had no idea how horrible Cas and the Winchesters were at playing their roles and following a plan. He listened to Metatron's plan to exchange Cas for Gadreel. He watched as Dean and Sam pulled up to the meeting place in the Impala.

It had been years. Gabriel had liked to think that he'd gotten over the loss of Sam. But he was wrong. Sam's hair was longer. And he seemed taller, if that were even possible. But it was still Sam. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on Sam Winchester again that there would be no more staying away. He just had to figure out the right entrance.

Gabriel followed Cas, Sam, and Dean as they drove in the Impala. He watched, waiting for Cas to mention him and what had happened. But he didn't. Not during the whole drive back to Cas' motel room.

Gabriel stopped watching, content to just listen as Sam and Dean drove off. Dean was still listening to classic rock on the radio. Neither of them were singing along, though. It gave Gabriel enough quiet to plan a big entrance. There could be balloons and fireworks and full marching band. Or maybe he could show up in Sam's dreams and give him the best dream of his life before making it happen in reality. Maybe he could show up naked, playing "Heat of the Moment" on the kazoo. That thought was winning out when Gabriel heard Sam's phone ring.

It had been hours. Sam was sitting on the edge of a motel bed as he picked up his phone.

Gabriel flew quickly and landed just outside of the motel room. He made himself invisible with a single thought. He wanted to hear who was on the other line, and getting caught wasn't a part of his plan.

It was Cas.

"Is Dean with you?" Cas asked.

Sam said, "No. He couldn't sleep. He's at a bar."

"This is actually good timing, then," Castiel said, "I need to discuss something with you."

"Something Dean can't hear?" Sam asked.

Cas said, "Sam, I think Gabriel's alive."

Sam nearly dropped his phone. Gabriel grinned.

He was about make a creative entrance involving a harp and a donkey when Sam said, "You'd better be wrong, Cas. Gabriel had better be dead."

Gabriel froze. No harps. No donkeys. Just stunned hurt. Had Sam really just said that? Well, if that was how the guy really felt...

Gabriel left, flew to a beach in New Zealand, and decided that he was much better off if he never thought about Sam Winchester ever again. His Sam was dead.

But the next day, Gabriel felt something he never thought he'd feel again. Sam was praying to him.

Gabriel sat up slowly in the sand, listening intently to the words floating through his mind.

"Gabriel, if you're really alive, get your ass here right now," Sam prayed.

Gabriel had heard was Sam said the day before. He'd just as likely be flying into Sam's arms as he'd be flying into a death trap. He didn't hesitate a second.

Gabriel flew to the bunker as fast as he could. He stood in Sam's room behind the gigantic hunter.

Sam said in prayer, "Gabriel, if you can hear this-"

Gabriel cut him off. "Hey, kiddo."


	20. As the World Falls Down

"Hey, kiddo."

Two words. Two words, and Sam's world was spinning. He turned around quickly to see the archangel Gabriel standing behind him.

"Gabriel?" Sam said, shocked.

"In the flesh," Gabriel said with a smirk, "You called?"

Sam grabbed the holy water flask from the bed behind him and splashed Gabriel in the face.

Gabriel spat some of the water out and wiped his face with one hand, dragging the water through his hair. Sam really wished that that motion didn't look so damn hot, or that his hair now looked a bit wet and even sexier than he remembered.

"You really think I would let a demon ride around in this sweet piece of ass?" Gabriel asked, "Sammich, I'm offended."

Sam paused and asked, "How do I know it's really you?"

Gabriel sighed. "Would a shapeshifter answer your prayers?" he asked.

"You could be an angel," Sam said.

"Would an angel be able to fly here now that all their wings have been deep fried?" Gabriel asked.

Sam took a step back. He didn't know if he wanted it to be Gabriel or not. If it was Gabriel... "If you're really Gabriel, how weren't you hurt when the angels fell?" he asked.

Gabriel said, "I was already down here when Heaven got dumped out. Already being down here made it pretty hard to get hurt. I do have a pretty killer headache from all the screaming over the angelic airwaves, but otherwise, I'm ship shape."

"Tell me something only Gabriel would know," Sam said quickly.

"Sam, really?" Gabriel said, stepping closer, "It's me. It's really me, I promise."

"Just do it," Sam said. He couldn't let himself believe that this was really Gabriel. It couldn't be. Gabriel died.

Gabriel looked Sam right in the eye, just like he used to. "Something that only I would know?" he said, "I stole your laptop and let the air out of your brother's tires when we first met."

"Anyone who's read the 'Supernatural' books could know that."

"Alright. I spent the night with you when Dean died. You didn't want me there at first, but you changed your mind. And I stayed with you nearly every night until Dean came back. You really want something only I would know? I love you. I've loved you since the Mystery Spot, and I never, ever stopped."

Sam stared at Gabriel. It had to be him. That son of a bitch. "Okay," he said, "Assuming you're really you, I have one more question. How did you survive fighting Lucifer?"

Gabriel grinned impishly. "Nobody tricks the Trickster, kiddo," he said.

"How could you do it?" Sam asked, shock quickly being replaced by anger, "How could you let me believe you were dead all this time? I begged you to tell me it was a trick. I begged you to be alive so many times. A few weeks, I could understand. A few months, sure. But years, Gabriel? Years? You let me mourn you for-"

"Wait, is that why you're pissed at me? Is that why you said that shit yesterday?" Gabriel asked.

Sam quieted. "What?" he asked.

"Yesterday, you told Cas that I'd better be dead. And I thought-"

"Yes, that's why I said that to Cas. If you were dead, not hearing from you for years makes sense, but...wait, you've been alive and watching me this whole time? Gabriel, how could you-"

Gabriel's mask crumbled. He crossed over to Sam with tears in his eyes and kissed him deeply, pushing him back on the bed gently.

Sam ran his hands up the back of Gabriel's shirt and kissed Gabriel harder.

Gabriel twisted his fingers in Sam's hair.

Sam broke off the kiss abruptly and said, "This doesn't mean that I forgive you, Gabriel."

Gabriel met Sam's eyes. "I didn't know," he said, "I only let you think I was dead so that Lucifer wouldn't find you through me. I watched you fall into Lucifer's cage, and that was the last I saw of you until yesterday, I swear. Now, why you didn't feel the need to let me know that you were alive is another mystery entirely."

Sam rolled them over, pinning Gabriel to the bed. "I almost prayed to you so many times. But I thought you were dead. I'd be praying to no one," he said, "You thought I was in Lucifer's cage this whole time?"

Gabriel nodded. "I had no idea you were out. I should've known. I should've tried to get you out. I should've-"

Sam silenced Gabriel with a kiss. When he broke away, Sam said, "I'm so sorry. I should've prayed to you. I know how hard it's been thinking that you were dead, I never wanted you to go through it, too."

Gabriel shook his head, smiling up at Sam. "I missed you, kiddo. Only you could manage to go from pissed off to blaming yourself in less than five seconds," he said.

Sam smiled, looking away from Gabriel for a moment. "I missed you, too," he said, "I missed you so much."

Gabriel stilled beneath Sam. Sam searched the archangel's golden eyes, concerned with the serious look he found there.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

Gabriel said softly, "I don't want to miss you anymore."

Sam chuckled and said, "You don't have to. You're here, and I'm-"

"I can't sense you. That fucking angel warding on you made me think that you were still in the cage for years. If I could just feel you again-"

"It's not exactly safe for other angels to know where I am right now, Gabe. I can't just-"

"What did you just call me?" Gabriel asked.

Sam paused. He smiled sheepishly at Gabriel. "I called you Gabe," he said.

Gabriel beamed, a brilliant smile stretching across his features. He rolled them over again, pinning Sam to the bed. "No one's ever called me Gabe before. I like it," he said. He kissed Sam thoroughly, all teeth and tongue.

The nickname had just kinda slipped out since it just seemed to fit. The more Sam thought about it, the more Sam liked it, too. As the Trickster, he was an adversary. As Loki, he was a pagan god. As Gabriel, he was the most powerful weapon of Heaven, an archangel. But as Gabe. As Gabe, he was just Sam's.

"I have to ask you something," Gabe said, breaking the kiss with a gasp.

Sam looked up at his archangel expectantly.

"Can I connect my grace to your soul?" Gabe asked.

Sam wasn't sure how to respond to that. What did that even mean? Would it hurt? Why would Gabe even want to? It was just such a weird request.

"It would just be so I can sense you without the other angels being able to. Dad pulled it off before during the apocalypse so I could still help you guys, but He was a spoil sport and ruined all the fun after-"

"God?" Sam asked, "God let you have a lo-jack on my soul?"

Gabriel sat up on Sam's lap and said, "Yeah, it's a long story. Whatever, it's a stupid idea anyway. Nevermind. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, it's okay. I want you to do it," Sam said.

Gabriel glanced down at Sam in surprise. "You sure?" he asked.

Sam grinned and pulled Gabriel down against his chest. "I don't want you to think I'm dead ever again. And you'd better never let me think you're dead when you're not," he said.

Gabriel ghosted his lips over Sam's, his breath hot against Sam's face. He asked, "So, we're doing this?"

"Dating? Fucking? Loving you?" Sam said, "Oh, yeah. We're doing this."

Sam crushed their mouths together, tasting the Gabriel that he'd missed so much with each motion.

Gabriel grabbed Sam's shoulder, angelic light emanating from his hand and his eyes.

Sam felt chills for a moment. His skin erupted in goosebumps. No wonder he hadn't noticed it when the connection had been placed the first time. The reaction he had to it was really subtle.

"Son of a bitch," Gabriel muttered, removing his hand from Sam.

"What?"

"You don't have Gadreel's grace in you."

Sam sat up and scooted back from Gabe. "How did you know about that?" he asked.

"Metatron told me," Gabriel said.

"Metatron? You talked to that son of a bitch?"

Gabriel said, "It was more he summoned me and threatened me, but yeah, talking happened."

"You're not working with him, are you?" Sam asked, getting up from the bed.

Gabriel sighed, spun around, and plopped down on the bed. "No, I'm not working with him. He threatened me and forced me to help him brainwash Cas, but-"

"You what?!" Sam asked. Brainwash Cas? What the hell?

Gabriel stood up, hands raised. "Sam, let me finish. Castiel is a smart kid, he figured it out. No harm done, I swear. I was trying to look out for him just as much as I was trying to look out for you-"

"Look out for me? What?"

"Will you sit down and let me explain?" Gabriel asked.

Sam silenced himself but refused to sit down.

Gabriel gave Sam an exasperated look but said, "Metatron summoned me. He caught me up with the whole you-being-alive business, told me that he needed me to trick Castiel, and threatened me by saying that the remnant of Gadreel's grace inside you was enough for him to manipulate and kill you or something worse. It wasn't a risk I was willing to take, but Cas is fine. Everything's fine, okay?"

Sam felt his shoulders slump with relief. "Okay," he said.

"Now, can we get back to the kissing? I was really enjoying that part," Gabriel said with a smirk.

Sam grinned and hauled Gabriel onto his feet. He hoisted the archangel up, tugging Gabe's legs around his waist. He pressed Gabe against the bedroom wall and slowly kissed down Gabriel's neck.

"Yeah," Sam breathed against Gabriel's soft skin, "I like that part, too."

Gabriel kissed Sam roughly. Sam rolled his hips against Gabe's pelvis.

Gabe gasped out a moan.

Sam pulled away from Gabe slightly but only slightly. "We should really tell Dean about this," he said.

"What? Now?" Gabriel asked.

"He'll want to know that you're back," Sam said.

"We'll continue this, though, right?"

"Of course we will. And we can be as loud and rough as you want."

Gabriel sighed and said, "Alright. But he won't react well to my being alive."

"He won't react well to us being together either, but he'll have to deal with it," Sam said.

"Wait, what? You're telling him everything?" Gabe asked, eyes wide.

Sam let Gabe down and motioned for him to follow. He'd had a few years to think about it, and Sam knew if he ever got another chance with Gabriel, there was no way he was keeping it a secret. It didn't matter what Dean thought about it, he was telling him. Plus, if he and Gabe were really as loud and rough as they wanted, Dean might think Sam was in a fight and barge in. Yes, it was really for the best if Dean knew.

Sam led Gabriel into the kitchen where Dean was flipping through files while drinking a beer.

"Hey," Sam said.

Dean looked up to greet Sam but spat out his beer when he laid eyes on the archangel. He shot up and said, "Dude, do you ever just stay dead?"

"Not yet, hot shot," Gabriel said with a grin.

"I'm getting my gun," Dean said.

"Dean, sit," Sam said, "We need to talk."

Dean eyed Sam warily but sat back down. "Fine, but I don't like this, Sam."

"Gabriel's back. And he's on our side," Sam said.

"That's nice and all," Dean said, "But this asshole, and that's the nicest way I can put it, has never, ever been on our side."

"Actually, that's not quite-" Gabe started.

Sam cut him off and said, "Gabe, I've got this."

Dean's eyebrows shot up as he looked between the two of them. "Okay, what's going on," he said.

"We're together," Sam said evenly.

"Like together, together?" Dean asked.

"Yes."

"Like having sex together, together?"

"You don't need to have sex to be together, Dean, but yes."

"How long has this been going on?" Dean asked, staring angrily at Gabriel.

Sam cleared his throat and said, "Years."

Dean snapped his eyes to Sam with shock and confusion on his face. "What the hell happened to being open with each other? Years? Jesus," he said.

Sam gave Dean a look. Yeah. Whatever did happen to being open with each other? Maybe it was never a thing. But it certainly went out the window when Dean thought it was a good idea to let an angel possess Sam without his knowledge. As if Sam's autonomy hadn't been compromised enough while he was in hell. His own brother...

Gabriel gave Sam a concerned sideways glance, and Sam wondered how much the archangel had heard.

"Look," Sam said to Dean, "I explained this earlier when I said I don't want to be brothers. I don't really care what you think about this, but as your professional partner, I'm telling you that Gabriel's on our side now, and I trust him."

Dean looked like Sam had just slapped him. He quickly focused his hurt gaze on his beer. "Just because you don't care about my opinion doesn't mean I have to be okay with this," he said.

Gabriel put a hand on Sam's arm before Sam could reply.

"Allow me," Gabriel said. He stepped towards the table, capturing Dean's cautious attention. The archangel snapped his fingers, and a steaming slice of apple pie sat in front of Dean.

"You can't just win me over with pie," Dean said, looking between the delicious pie and Gabriel.

Gabe grinned, snapped his fingers again, and a scoop of vanilla ice cream appeared on the plate next to the pie.

Dean paused, considering this new development. He took a bite of the apple pie and closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying it.

It was the first time in a while that Sam felt like laughing with Dean around. Sam still had a long way to go before he could really forgive Dean for what he did, but for a moment, everything felt okay.

Dean swallowed his bite of pie and said, "Okay, having an archangel around may not be all bad, I'll concede that much. But is he gonna help us hunt, help us take down Abaddon? Metatron?"

Gabriel nodded. "Absolutely. I'll help out in any way I can," he said.

"Then, why didn't you before?" Dean asked, "If you've been alive this whole time, why didn't you help against Raphael, or the Leviathans, or when Sam was dying from what the trials did to him?"

Sam turned to face Gabriel. He didn't much appreciate the interrogating tone Dean was using, but he did want to know the answers to that question.

Gabriel looked at Sam for a second, a contemplative glance, before saying, "After everybody fell down the rabbit hole, I needed to take a vacation. So, I left. I hit some nice tropics, had some fun. I didn't know about what Raphael was up to. I didn't care. I felt it when he died, though. Pretty sure all angels did. I heard some talk about Castiel being the new head honcho, but the Heaven crowd usually needs a leader, so why not Cas? Leviathans? Well, my Dad couldn't kill them, so what the hell could I do? And I had no idea that Sam was alive, so I had no idea he was dying. Really, I was on vacation when all that shit went down, and the way I saw it, hadn't I given enough?"

"Given enough?" Dean snapped, "You've been goofing off on beaches while the world's been at stake."

Gabriel slammed the table hard and said, "I lost my brothers, my family, my friends, and Sam all in one terrible second only to lose even more family later on. I didn't get my brothers back. I didn't have a woman and her son to run to. I didn't have a life to put back together. I died when I lost them. Don't you ever say that I haven't given enough."

Sam put a hand on Gabe's chest and pulled him away from the table a few steps. "It's okay," he said.

Gabriel nodded and took Sam's hand in his, lacing their fingers together. He faced Dean. "I'll help now. I can't kill Abaddon, but I can help research how to do it. I can't hurt Metatron since he's powering up somehow, but I can help track him down. Anything I'm capable of helping with, I'll help with. Whatever you need," he said.

Dean said, "Metatron's using the angel tablet to give himself the extra juice, so unless you know where that is-"

"Sorry, bucko," Gabe said, "Got zilch on that old thing. But I can check in with a few contacts, see what info I can dig up-"

"Right now," Sam said, "I really just need you to stay."

Gabriel smiled softly at Sam. "Okay."

And he did.

He stayed through Dean's death. He healed Sam from his knock out, but it wasn't fast enough. And it broke his heart to tell Sam that the Mark of Cain prevented him from resurrecting Dean.

He stayed and saw the Mark with his own eyes. He recognized it from the Mark that had made Lucifer turn and become the villain he now was. He told Sam then, that the Mark was seriously bad news.

He stayed and helped Sam track the demon Dean had become. If those blasted angel sigils were gone, the search would've been a whole hell of a lot easier. And he stayed to pick up the pieces after the things Demon Dean said broke the fragile parts of Sam.

He stayed long enough to laugh with Sam about the high school girls calling Dean and Cas 'Destiel.' And how much it bothered Dean. For weeks, Gabriel took great joy in mentioning 'Destiel' and 'fan fiction' anytime he found himself alone with Dean.

He stayed and told Sam yet again that Mark of Cain was seriously bad. Lucifer bad. He encouraged him to use whatever he could to remove the Mark. Any consequences would be worth sparing Dean the affect of the Mark and spare Sam the pain of losing his brother the same way Gabriel had.

Gabriel stayed even when removing the Mark backfired. He assured Sam that Charlie had safely gotten to Heaven, that it was a better place for her. Dean, of course, had been in no condition to listen at the time.

He stayed when removing the Mark released the Darkness. He learned quickly that jokes about every family having a weird aunt didn't go over very well with the boys. He wanted to throttle Sam for not telling him about the visions, for going to Hell without telling him. He wanted to kill Dean again for staging a rescue mission without him, but as Sam pointed out later, it was for the best that Lucifer still thought he was dead. But he screamed when he found out that Lucifer had escaped. It was worse when he learned he was using Cas as a vessel.

But the point is, he stayed. No matter what happened, Sam and Gabriel were there for each other. After a long hunt or a horrific turn of events, Sam would return to find an archangel warming his bed. After another false lead or another dead end, Gabriel could find all the comfort he wanted in that ridiculously tall hunter of his. They were both broken in so many ways, and it seemed to always get worse and harder to keep going, but they were there for each other. They supported each other, healed each other in ways they didn't know they could. They managed to be happy despite the chaos around them because of each other.

In the end, Chuck had been right. Nothing ever really does end.


End file.
